The House of the Golden Flower
by vericus
Summary: Those of the House were always noble. But Gondolin, and those who held loyal to it, were doomed first by Morgoth, and then the sons of Fëanor... Longer summary inside, costars Thranduil
1. The Fall of the House

**~ The House of the Golden Flower ~**

  
  
Summary:  
Those of the House were always noble - they gave their loyalty unquestioningly, and never shirked from their duties. But Gondolin, and those who held loyal to it, were doomed by first Morgoth, and then the sons of Fëanor. Now, only one remains in Middle-Earth - only one to see the Chief of the House returned. And it is up to her to let him know who he his - as soon as she remembers who SHE is, first... (A pre-Last Alliance romance, starring two of the more under-appreciated characters of the books - Glorfindel and Thranduil. And no, it's not slash.)  
  
  
Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Laurind. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien - or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)  
  
  
Author's Note:  
Right, so I'm bored, figured I'd post the first chapter of this, my new fanfiction. Hope y'all enjoy it...it won't be nearly as long as my last one (which was 80 chapters long, for any new readers out there) and will probably, unfortunately, be much slower in updating. This is due to a multitude of reasons...first and foremost being the quantity of research that's going to be involved in writing this. Sooo...if anyone could point me towards something with lots of nitty-gritty details about the Last Alliance, I'd be much obliged. Also, any mistakes you find, feel free to point them out. It will probably save me trouble further down the road.  
  
Now, on with the chapter!  
  


* * *

  
Chapter 1: The Fall of the House  
~The year 510 of the First Age~  
  
_Gondolin is burning._  
  
The thought was the first coherent one Laurind had had since she began running. Her vision was trained on the Elves in front of her and the ground where she was putting her feet, so she did not actually see the city burning, but she could smell the smoke. She didn't want to turn and look, anyways. It was hard enough leaving another home, she did not want the memory of this one burning etched in her memory for the millennia to come.  
  
_::Laur!::_ the sudden call in her head startled Laurind, and she stumbled slightly, only to be helped up by a nearby elf. _::Laur, where are you?::_ The call was more urgent this time, and Laurind forced her mind to work once more; to think, instead of just react.  
  
_::I do not know, exactly. Wait a moment-::_ she replied, slowing her pace - much to the dislike of those behind her - and looking around carefully. _::Not far from the entrance to the tunnel.::_  
  
_::How many are behind you?::_ the voice asked urgently.  
  
_::Less than there were a moment ago.::_ Laurind replied dryly as she slowed her pace yet more to look behind her. _::A hundred, perhaps less.::_  
  
_::Can you stay at the rear and urge them on? I must stay at the front with Tuor and Idril.::_ Laurind sent a mental affirmative, and the light touch on her mind withdrew.  
  
Knowing that 'rear' meant the absolute farthest back she could get, Laurind not only slowed more, but turned and went in the other direction, one hand on the hilt of the sword her brother had given to her the day after Maeglin had arrived in Gondolin, and taught her to use in the time between then and now. Several Elves shot her looks of disbelief, and a few of suspicion, as she went back. Laurind ignored the looks, however, scanning the flood of fleeing Elves for the familiar colours of her house, or for any that she knew.  
  
She spotted one of the guards of her house first, and called out to him. He recognized her immediately, and called out to several of his fellows nearby before making his way over to her. He, and three others, reached Laurind just as the flood of refugees began to thin, and she quickly told them of her orders to guard the rear. They nodded acceptance and formed up around her as the last of those making for Idril's hidden passage approached them. They fell in behind, almost running backwards as they watched the path behind them.  
  
Laurind had fallen into instinct again, her body moving without commands from her mind, going through actions she knew how to do in her sleep, though she had never had to use them in earnest before now. Beside her, she sensed that the guards had done the same. As her father had said once, long ago, thought would only get in the way in a time like this, anyways. So they ran, straining their senses beyond what even they as Elves thought possible to detect any sign of pursuit; but fortunately, their retreat was hidden by the fog and steam that rolled down off Encircling Mountains. Even on the day of the great city's destruction, those mountains were giving them one last defense - and though she sent thanks to the Valar for this small favour, Laurind did not relax her guard even after they had passed into the tunnel.  
  
Laurind's head and limbs ached by the time they emerged from the tunnel onto the mountainside, but she did not ask for another to relieve her of the duty of rearguard. She knew there were none to take her place even if she did ask. The Balrogs and dragons of Morgoth had killed all who had fought against them, and only those few soldiers and guards who had deemed a strategic retreat the best course of action had survived - and Laurind knew that she most likely had around a quarter of those with her at that very moment.  
  
Eventually, as the path climbed and they went higher into the mountains, Laurind and the guards had to relax their guard somewhat, for the thin air and cold would cause them to pass out if they did not. They were not happy about it, however, and were twice as wary of everything, though the area in which they watched for enemies had grown smaller. Then, the call came from farther up the line - they had been attacked, but from ahead and above, not behind.  
  
Laurind glanced at the guards, and two of them peeled off without a word and sprinted up the line, the panicking refugees making way quickly for them. One other guard, this one from the now dead House of the Fountain, joined the two from Laurind's house before they were out of her range of vision, but he was the only one to do so as far as she saw.  
  
The refugees began to shift, moving in different directions, as the ones to the front tried to outrun the ambush they had fallen into - but Laurind and her two guards stood there and reminded the people of the dangers that lay behind, and then the Eagles cries were heard from up above. Soon, the line began to creep forward slowly, again, but there was still a ripple of panic from those at the front, and Laurind reached out tentatively with her mind to see what was the matter.  
  
_::Fire slash darkness hurt flame cut shadow-::_ Laurind found herself abruptly cut off from the incoherent thoughts, and reeled in surprise. He had never pushed her out before, even when fighting. He could not spare the energy when fighting to push her out, he said - so why had he done so this time? The answer reached Laurind just as she considered going to the front of the line herself - a Balrog stood in their way. And Lord Glorfindel was doing battle with him.  
  
A cry was ripped from Laurind's throat and her sword fell from her hands as she pelted off up the line, going faster than she ever had - but it was not fast enough. She came within sight of the battle only in time to see the two fighters tumble over the side of the cliff. Thorondor dove after them, but the refugees did not need to wait for his return to know that he was not fast enough - Laurind's mournful wail told them long before the Lord of the Eagles reappeared.  
  
Lord Glorfindel, Chief of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin, was dead.  
  
---  
  
Ereinion Gil-galad stared at the smoking ruins at the mouth of the Sirion with well-concealed horror, his stomach churning not only from the horrible sight, but the sickly-sweet smell of burning flesh that drifted on the wind. He did not want to go any closer - did not want to know the ruin that the sons of Fëanor had heaped upon these people. But he knew he must. Not only did his duties as High King demand it, but he could not let himself believe that all had perished.  
  
Mechanically, Gil-galad set about arranging for those on the ships to land on the shore - up-wind of the ruins, of course, but no one seemed any more eager than he to do even that. Yet a morbid need to know the extent of the destruction drew them on, as well as the slim hope that someone had survived the assault.  
  
Silence hung over the landing boats more thickly than any fog, no one daring to speak a word. What orders were needed were given by hand-signal - in the unnatural stillness, and through the determination of all to look at anything but the ruins, the hand-signals of the commanders were never missed. The scraping of their boats hulls against the sandy floor seemed like thunder in the silence, and a good many of the Elves winced at the sound.  
  
Gil-glad and Círdan accepted the sounds with a joint sigh, however, and then became the first to break the silence as they gave their followers orders of where to set up camp. It was late in the afternoon already - they would set up their camp, stay for a night, and then search the ruins for survivors in the morning. So it was done, and though it was not done in is as complete silence as their trip from the ships had been, it was done much more quietly than Gil-glad had ever heard a military force of any type set up camp.  
  
As evening fell, the construction of the camp was finished, and the second set of sentries stayed only long enough to get some traveling rations before heading out to replace those that had watched while the camp was assembled. Gil-galad and Círdan called their captains to them in the main tent, and they spoke quietly over a map of the city and the surrounding area, deciding where best to search in the morning. They were just about to retire for the night when one of the sentries appeared in the entrance to the tent.  
  
The sentry nodded to the High King and to Círdan, then motioned for them to follow before turning and leaving the tent once again. Gil-galad and Círdan followed, with their captains not far behind, and soon came to the northern edge of the camp. There, standing between two soldiers, they found an Elf-maiden, waiting with her head bowed, and her hands clasped in front of her. Golden hair fell around her face like a curtain, blocking her face from their sight and marking her as one with Vanyar blood.  
  
"She literally walked into me." the sentry said quietly to the King as they stopped before the maiden. "We have been unable to get any sort of response from her - I am not sure she is able to respond at all." Gil-galad nodded thoughtfully, then stepped forward and lightly touched the maiden's shoulder. Unexpectedly, given what the sentry had just said, the maiden actually raised her head to look at the High King, and Gil-galad felt pity as he saw the grief in her eyes - along with a flicker of recognition. She knew who he was, then.  
  
"M'lady, did you come from the settlement?" It was a stupid question - there was nowhere else she could have come from, but Gil-galad had to ask.  
  
"_Narntë vanwa._" she said, as if she had not heard Gil-galad. "_Narntë qualin._" Gil-galad blinked at the unexpected use of Quenya, but adjusted quickly and replied in kind.  
  
"_Man?_" Gil-galad asked with a concerned look.  
  
"_Nossënya._" the maiden replied quietly, looking down at the ground, and as Gil-galad watched, it seemed as if something died within her at that admission. When next she looked up at him, a shiver went down his spine at the emptiness within her eyes. And try though he and others did, for that night and the next three thousand years, she did not speak another word. She lived as one consumed by grief, yet did not - perhaps could not - fade.  
  


* * *

  
Translations:  
_'Narntë vanwa.'_ - They are gone. (Quenya)  
_'Narntë qualin.'_ - They are dead. (Quenya)  
_'Man?'_ - Who? (Quenya)  
_'Nossënya.'_ - My House (Literally: My [clan, family, kin, or people]) (Quenya)  
  



	2. Visitors From Valinor

** The House of the Golden Flower **

  
  
Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the characters Nîdae and Encaitar. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien - or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)  
  
Author's Note:  
For those of you wondering, yes, I purposely left the specifics of Laurind and Glorfindel's relation to each other vague. It has a part to play in this story yet, and I will be having great fun with it later on. And on that note, anyone who guesses the relation correctly ahead of time gets their own shiny, Glorfindel-look-alike no-prize. (heh, reading old marvel comic's letters pages can come up with some pretty whacky stuff...)  
  
And now, before we go on with the story, I would like to say once again: if you find any mistakes, please point them out!  
  
On with the story!

* * *

Chapter 2: Visitors From Valinor  
The year 3350 of the Second Age  
  
Círdan smiled widely as the plank came down from the ship and his good friend Encaitar appeared at the top. Encaitar returned the wide smile, then turned and motioned to someone behind him before gracefully leaping down the plank and practically bowling Círdan off his feet. When he drew back, he had a mock scowl on his face.  
  
"As steady as ever, I see." he said grumpily. Círdan smirked.  
  
"You shall never succeed in knocking me off my feet, no matter what is underneath those feet." he replied. The two Elves glared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing, resting their arms across each others shoulders for mutual support in their mirth. They straightened after the laughter had die somewhat, and Encaitar gave Círdan a hearty clap on the shoulder.  
  
"Valinor has just not been the same with out you, my friend!" Encaitar said sollemnly.  
  
"No place ever is." Círdan replied with a smirk, then looked at Encaitar curiously. "As I recall, however, your duties as chief of your house in Valinor would ensure that things there would also not be the same without you there, only in a far worse way than my absence brings. What brings you to the Grey Havens?"  
  
"A young boy from a small House who had never left his families estate before a year ago." Encaitar replied seriously. Círdan arched an eyebrow, silently asking for more elaboration. Encaitar smiled slightly. "We shall speak of it later. For now -" Encaitar turned to the ship, and Círdan instinctively covered his ears as the Elf beside him took a deep breath. Encaitar grinned, winked at Círdan, then - at quite an acceptable volume - told those on the ship to begin disembarking.  
  
First off the boat was a young Elfling, possibly not even past his majority, and a questioning glance at Encaitar told Círdan that this was the boy. He came over to the two of them and bowed politely to Círdan, following it up with polite words of greeting, introducing himself as Belldaug. Círdan returned the pleasantries in kind, looking at Belldaug curiously. There was something familiar about the boy, but the Shipwright could not quite figure out what. He pushed it aside, however, judging that Encaitar would tell him later, as the other passengers of the ship from Valinor approached to give greetings to the Lord of the Grey Havens.  
  
It was much later that night, after a welcoming dinner and dance, that Círdan and Encaitar were finally able to escape to Círdan's study for some privacy to discuss the young Elf-lord that had accompanied Encaitar.  
  
"So what is it about the young Lord Belldaug that has caused you to bring him all the way from Valinor personally?" Círdan prompted as he handed his seated friend a newly-poured glass of wine before taking his own and sinking into a chair opposite.  
  
"I brought him personally as a favour to his parents." Encaitar said with a small smile. "He is two years away from majority, and they were slightly worried about him going out on his own. Those worries quickly disappeared, however, when I offered to accompany Belldaug." Círdan arched an eyebrow.  
  
"So why was it so important to bring him from Valinor?" the Shipwright asked. Encaitar, who had previously been sitting down, stood at his friend's question and went over to the window in Círdan's study, staring out of it with his back to the room for a time before speaking.  
  
"Belldaug is exceptionally wise in areas of which there is no use for in Valinor." Encaitar said finally, with a sigh. "Tactics, siege, strategy...anything you can name, if it has to do with warfare, he knows of it at the very least. If I had not seen him and Tulkas in the same place once or twice myself, I would have thought that Belldaug was Tulkas in disguise." Encaitar quieted for a moment, then turned to Círdan with a thoughtful look. "For all his knowledge, however, he was not out of place in Valinor. Quite the contrary. He is adept at being diplomatic, as you no doubt noticed tonight, and looked to be the one to bring his house back to its former glory through sheer politics, if not numbers."  
  
"What is his house, by the way?" Círdan asked out of curiosity.  
  
"One that should be held in the utmost respect as it is." Encaitar replied somewhat angrily, pursing his lips. "The House of the Golden Flower." Círdan shot bolt upright in his chair.  
  
"That House still _exists_?!" he exclaimed. Encaitar nodded.  
  
"There are less then two dozen within its ranks, but it does still exist." he said, then sighed. "One would think that their sacrifices in the fight against Morgoth would give them glory and power in the courts of Valinor, but unfortunately, that is not so. Especially since they can't even name a chieftain for themselves."  
  
"I always thought those of the House of the Golden Flower were rather decisive in their actions." Círdan said, quirking an eyebrow upwards.  
  
"They were." Encaitar said ruefully. "But all the decisive ones seem to have been killed or gone missing - and half of the remaining House are using their decisiveness to insist that there are some closer relatives than they to Lord Glorfindel over here." Círdan shook his head.  
  
"There are not." he said, and Encaitar nodded.  
  
"So many have told them. They, however, remain firm in their belief, though they can give no proof or reason for it." he replied, then added with a grin. "Belldaug might well have fixed that had I not spirited him off. The boy takes no nonsense. He reminds me much of the last Chief of that House. If it was not for the fact that the Valar allowed me to come here with him, I would have thought that he actually was Lord Glorfindel reborn." Círdan smiled sadly.  
  
"That would indeed be a help beyond belief." the Shipwright said. "I only had the fortune of meeting him once, but I have heard many tales of how his skills in the politics of court were only exceeded by his knowledge in warfare and skill with weapons." Encaitar nodded, and the two friends shared a mournful moment.  
  
"So many good Elves were lost in Gondolin." Encaitar said finally, sighing. Círdan echoed the sigh and nodded.  
  
"So very many." he agreed.  
  
---  
  
Encaitar and Círdan smiled at each other in amusement over Belldaug's head as they rode into Lindon some months later. The boy was quite obviously awed by what he saw, and Círdan was suddenly rather grateful that the boy had picked one of the older, wiser stallions in the Grey Havens to ride on their journey, as the horse was smart enough to keep plodding along between Encaitar and Círdan's hoses, even though his rider was clearly not paying attention. It would not do, however, for the boy to greet the High King with open-mouthed awe. Not only would the Belldaug be quite embarrassed about it afterwards, but Gil-galad needed no further ego boosts.  
  
"You shall have plenty of time to look around later, Belldaug, you need not look as if it will disappear any moment." Círdan murmured, leaning towards the boy slightly so he would be sure to hear. Belldaug flushed faintly, and turned to Círdan with a sheepish smile.  
  
"My apologies, my lord." he said. "It is just that these buildings - this city - are completely different from anything in Valinor."  
  
"Not really." Encaitar commented from beside Belldaug, and the boy looked over at him curiously. "If you look, you can see that the same basic architecture is used, and the plans for the streets are not all that radically different from those used in the major cities in Valinor. It simply looks much different because of the decoration. Which, I will admit, is indeed completely different from anything in Valinor."  
  
"And why not? After all, one must have colour in their lives to remain cheery!" said a voice from the side, and Círdan sighed as he reigned his horse to a stop and turned to the source of the voice. Off to the side of the road on which they were riding, at the front of the crowd that had gathered to watch the new arrivals, was a common-looking Elf, dressed in typical, if slightly shabby, merchant's clothing. The only clue that he was not who he looked to be was that, even though it was high summer, he wore a cloak with the hood pulled forward just enough to shade his eyes.  
  
"Gil-galad, why can you not EVER meet us at the palace like a normal King?" Círdan asked in exasperation. The High-King-in-disguise chuckled, even as the crowd slowly edged away from him as the meaning of what Círdan had just said sunk in.  
  
"Because I like to keep you on your toes, good sir, just as you like to keep me on mine." Gil-galad said, bowing deeply to the Shipwright before throwing back the hood of his cloak to reveal the crown he wore underneath. Círdan shook his head, and Encaitar hid a smile while Belldaug returned to gaping, despite Círdan's earlier admonishment. With Gil-galad's identity now revealed, several of the High King's personal guard also now appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, one of them leading a horse, which Gil-galad promptly mounted up on, steering it over to Círdan once his seat was secure.  
  
"And anyways, you just happened to come in while I was out seeing how my people are faring." Gil-galad added as he and Círdan gripped each others arms in greeting.  
  
"Oh, is that your newest excuse to Cúmehtar?" Círdan asked dryly, naming the High King's Seneschal, then motioned to Encaintar before Gil-galad could protest. "Gil-galad, this is my good friend Lord Encaitar of the House of the Deer, and young Lord Belldaug of the House of the Golden Flower." The two bowed as best they could to the High King while on horses, and Gil-galad returned the greeting with a regal nod, though Círdan saw the spark of interest as he named Belldaug's House.  
  
"All friends of Lord Círdan are welcome in Lindon for as long as they wish to stay, even more so if they are of the House of the noble and honoured Lord Glorfindel." Gil-galad said. Círdan noticed, with no little amount of curiosity, that Belldaug seemed to almost get resentful when Gil-galad mentioned Lord Glorfindel, though he was gracious enough in accepting the High King's hospitality. Then Círdan pushed his curiosity aside with a shake of his head - the boy was most likely simply tired of hearing of his famous relative, and of living in his shadow.  
  
---  
  
Gil-galad stood back along the wall of the ballroom and watched over the rim of his goblet as his three guests were engaged in after-dinner conversation by members of his court. The High King had hidden himself in a corner in order to get a brief break from the court, and to think about the new arrivals. Círdan loved to show up unannounced - as did Gil-galad - so it was nothing new that he had arrived totally unexpectedly, but Gil-galad sensed there was something different about the visit this time.  
  
For one thing, Círdan didn't seem to like to leave the Grey Havens anymore than once every ten years, and he'd already made his ten year visit. Of course, he had claimed that he wanted to show his friend around Lindon, but he had not accounted for the presence of the young Lord Belldaug - and something was telling Gil-galad that Belldaug was the real reason for Círdan and Lord Encaitar's visit. Watching how the young Elf interacted with the court only strengthened that feeling - he acted as if he had grown up in court, deftly and diplomatically making acquaintances, but no alliances as of yet. He was still, as any good politician would be, feeling out the situation.  
  
Gil-galad smiled as he saw Belldaug cornered by Lord Angahonda, the Lord who the High King currently trusted with command of Lindon's army. Normally, most court Lords would exchange nothing more than greetings with Lord Angahonda, then make their escape as quick as they could before they were forced to admit their ignorance in the matters of war. Gil-galad watched, waiting for Belldaug to make his own excuses and leave the lord, as well. Belldaug, however, soon became engaged in conversation with Angahonda, and Gil-galad decided it was probably best to rescue the poor boy.  
  
As he approached, however, he realized that the boy did not need rescuing. Lord Angahonda was, at the moment, animatedly describing some tactical problem they'd been having, and Belldaug was listening intently. Even as Gil-galad took the final few steps towards the two, Angahonda finished speaking, and Belldaug started replying with several suggestions about how to solve the problem. He stopped and flushed slightly, however, when he noticed Gil-galad. Angahonda, looking vexed that Belldaug had stopped, turned to see the cause, and blinked when he saw Gil-galad, then abruptly grinned.  
  
"Ah, Gil-galad!" he said warmly. "You didn't tell me that Círdan had brought us a military genius!" Gil-galad looked at Angahonda blankly.  
  
"Perhaps because I did not know?" he said, then glanced at the now strongly flushing Belldaug. "A military genius? And you can tell this after only a few minutes of conversation?"  
  
"Well, he's a military genius next to the rest of these simpletons." Angahonda said with a contemptuous snort, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of the rest of the court. Gil-galad coughed lightly at the same time as Belldaug, and Angahonda blinked.  
  
"Wonderful politician, too." the general added, and Gil-galad smiled with amusement.  
  
"I'd noticed." he said, looking at Belldaug and seeing the boy flush even more. "Though far too easily embarrassed." Gil-galad added teasingly. Belldaug glared at Gil-galad for a brief moment, just long enough to get his point across without seeming impertinent or disrespectful to the High King, and impressing Gil-galad even more. Belldaug was spared further teasing, however, as a sudden hush fell over the dancing hall, with even the musicians falling silent.  
  
Gil-galad, knowing the one Elf that could cause the hall to go so completely silent, turned with a sad sigh to the entrance of the hall. Sure enough, the _elleth_ that he expected stood in the entrance, dressed in dark greys, with her hair pulled back in a severe braid as her maids had given to doing after becoming tired of having to untangle her hair from the wind. As usual, she seemed to look around the hall without really seeing anything, nothing actually registering in her mind. For a brief moment, sadness and grief so intense it stole ones breath rolled off of her, over the hall, like a wave one was unable to escape.  
  
Then she listlessly took the first step into the hall, and the spell was broken. The musicians started up again, and the chatter resumed, though all made way for the Elf-maiden as she wandered aimlessly through them, there in body, but not in mind or spirit. Gil-galad, in a sudden spurt of hope, decided to introduce her to Belldaug. None of the House of the Golden Flower had survived the slaughter at the mouth of Sirion, and they had been well known there before the destruction, so perhaps introducing her to one of the House's members would stir some reaction in her.  
  
"Come, you must meet Nîdae." Gil-galad said as he turned back to Belldaug. He nodded a polite excusal to Angahonda, then lightly grasped Belldaug's arm and led him through the crow in the maidens direction.  
  
"Who?" Belldaug asked in confusion.  
  
"Nîdae. The maiden who just entered. It is not her real name, but she does, to a limited extent, respond to it, and she will not give us another one." Gil-galad replied with fake cheerfulness. Belldaug looked dubious, but allowed himself to be led to the maiden without anymore questions.  
  
---  
  
The first thing Belldaug had noticed when the maiden entered the hall the overwhelming sense of familiarity that he felt towards her. He could have sworn he'd see her before, yet he could not recall where, and furthermore, he could not recall even having heard of someone so consumed by grief before. And yet, along with that familiar feel came the feeling that he needed to stay away from her - far away.  
  
The feeling to stay away from her only intensified when the High King gave her the name of 'Tearful Shadow', and when the King mentioned that she responded to that name only to a 'limited extent', Belldaug was beyond prepared to run in the opposite direction. A sense of courtesy, however, along with a lack of knowledge as to the position of the maiden in this court, and in particular of her relation to the King, made Belldaug smother the swelling, unreasonable panic inside and steel himself for the encounter with the grey, sorrowful maid.  
  
Belldaug was actually rather surprised, when he and the King finally broke into the empty area surrounding Nîdae, to find that the maiden did not, as he had originally thought, have silver hair or grey eyes. Her dress, complexion, hair style, and bearing did their best to make her appear as if she was a grey shadow - there was little wonder where the name of 'Nîdae' had come from - but when one was close to her, it was impossible to deny that she had golden hair and deep, green eyes. What was most intriguing, however, was that while the colour of her hair and eyes easily competed with those of the most beautiful _elleth_ in the hall, they were, quite obviously, dulled. Belldaug had no time for speculation about that, however, as he and the King were now in front of Nîdae, and Gil-galad was speaking.  
  
"Nîdae, it is wonderful that you could join us tonight." the King said with a smile. Nîdae looked at the King somewhat blankly, seeming to just be looking in his general direction, instead of at him, and not actually registering his words. She did not reply, but Gil-galad did not act as if he had expected her to.  
  
"There are some guests from Valinor with us tonight, and I thought I might introduce you to one of them." Gil-galad continued. Nîdae seemed to pay a little more attention at the mention of Valinor, but the interest disappeared almost immediately, only to be renewed somewhat as Gil-galad continued with his introduction. "Belldaug, this is Nîdae. Nîdae, this is Lord Belldaug of the House of the Golden Flower." Gil-galad introduced. Belldaug detected a hint of nervousness in the King's voice, and wondered at it for a moment, before Nîdae's gaze drifted over to him, and he froze.  
  
Unlike with Gil-galad, she did not seem to be looking in his general direction, but looked right into his eyes, and for a brief moment he wondered if she had actually been looking at Gil-galad in this unnerving manner, even while knowing that she had not. Then thought fled, and his mind, as well as his body, was frozen by her gaze, held in place by the intensity in her eyes, and he felt as if he would soon be lost in their green depths. The thought came, unbidden, that her eyes were much the same colour as his own, and he felt a shiver travel down his spine at the thought, unnerving him. He was rather grateful when she finally released him from her gaze, and he let out a shaky breath.  
  
A quick glance at Gil-galad showed the King to apparently be somewhat disappointed, but even during the span of that quick glance, Gil-galad's expression froze and then turned into one of shock. Belldaug's eyes flitted back to Nîdae with a cold dread, and he found that she had fallen into what was the deepest curtsey he had ever seen. Not even when greeting one of the Valar had he seen a maiden curtsey so deeply.  
  
"There is no need for that." Belldaug assured her hastily, with alarm, reaching out to take her arm and pull her to her feet, suddenly aware that every Elf surrounding them who could see what was going on had stilled and quieted. Nîdae, however, rose without him having to take her arm - but this was not an improvement, as she then once again locked gazes with Belldaug. He found himself frozen in place once again, pinned by that deep, sorrowful green gaze, and when she spoke, her voice seemed to reverberate around inside his head like something shouted into an empty hall, instead of whispered in a crowded ballroom.  
  
"_Hérinya._" was all she said, and then she turned away, seemingly disinterested now, and made her ambling way towards the entrance once again, leaving Belldaug where he was, still frozen from the effect of her gaze and her word.  
  
Eventually, however, he came to himself to hear Círdan and Gil-galad speaking quickly in hushed tones beside him. He turned to them, still feeling somewhat dazed, and their conversation immediately stopped. Círdan looked at him somewhat sardonically, while Gil-galad looked intrigued and speculative.  
  
"Well, Belldaug, congratulations." Círdan said.  
  
"For what, my lord?" Belldaug asked with confusion.  
  
"For being the first being in over three thousand years to cause our Tearful Shadow to speak." Círdan replied, his lips twitching as he held in an ironic smile.

* * *

Translations:  
_'elleth'_ - female elf (Sindarin)  
_'Hérinya.'_ - My lord. (Quenya)  



	3. The Silvan Envoy

** The House of the Golden Flower **

  
  
Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the characters Laurind and Encaitar. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien - or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)  
  
Author's Note:  
Right. I've asked several different places about the differences between Silvan and Sindar Elves, and y'know what? I still haven't been able to figure it out. Ergo, all Greenwood and Lothlorien Elves in this story are going to be referred to as Silvan. Those that know the difference, and can think of a way to explain it that would make sense to a poor, information-stuffed, sugar-filled, half-asleep mind, feel free to send me an email or leave a review, and if I understand, I'll change whatever's wrong. Until then, however, Silvan they all remain...  
  
Yep. So, usual stuff applies - if you find anything wrong, feel free to tell me, and please review, because reviews are cool, and they make me do silly things like compose bits of the story in my head while I have a headache and am supposed to be doing the final exam for my chemistry course. _nodnod_

* * *

Chapter 3: The Silvan Envoy  
  
It was late in the night by the time Círdan and Gil-galad managed to escape the ballroom with Belldaug and tell him the story of how they had found the maiden Nîdae at the mouth of Sirion after the attack of the sons of Fëanor, and how she had not spoken, or acknowledged anyone's presence, since she had been found. Encaitar, out of his own curiosity, was included in the explanation, though he knew much of the tale already from Círdan.  
  
Belldaug's reaction to the tale, however, was not what Gil-galad and Círdan expected. He seemed more disturbed than curious as to why he had caused such a reaction in the grief-stricken maiden, and somewhat shocked, as well. None of them in the room, however, could have anticipated Belldaug's reaction when Gil-galad requested that he spend more time with Nîdae in the hopes that he might be able to draw her out.  
  
"_Lau._" he said firmly, and for a moment it seemed as if there was incredible power behind his words. The three Lords in the room looked at him in surprise, and he looked back at them fearlessly.  
  
"It would -" Gil-galad got no further, as Belldaug repeated his refusal in a, if such a thing was possible, firmer tone of voice.  
  
"Ever since she first stepped into the hall I have had a feeling that I must stay away from her - as far away as I can get. What happened during our meeting has only cemented that feeling. I will not go near her." Belldaug said strongly. Gil-galad opened his mouth to protest once again, looking annoyed now, but Belldaug cut him off once again. "She may approach me if she wishes, but I shall not go near her."  
  
"I could order you to do so." Gil-galad said coldly, glaring furiously down at the impudent young Lordling before him.  
  
"If you do so, I shall return to Valinor." Belldaug replied, meeting Gil-galad's glare and tone of voice with equal strength. The two stood locked in a silent battle of wills for a time, and then, surprisingly, Gil-galad turned away.  
  
"If those are your wishes, then you are no longer needed in this discussion." the High King snapped, and Belldaug bowed slightly before leaving. Silence reigned for a time after he left.  
  
"That boy," Círdan said emphatically, "Is _not_ normal."  
  
"One of his relatives stood up to a Balrog. What else would you expect?" Encaitar asked sarcastically.  
  
"A little respect." Gil-galad growled.  
  
"Before you asked him to do something he had a strong feeling not to do, he showed you the utmost respect." Encaitar pointed out. "Indeed, if the feeling is so strong that he will refuse you outright, even under the threat of being ordered to do what you wished, I suspect that it was an act of extreme respect to you, and courage, that made him let you lead him to Nîdae in the first place. He was somewhat stunned-looking when she left, if you recall. Something obviously passed between them, other than what we heard and saw." Gil-galad sighed.  
  
"You are probably right." he said. "Or you could not be. Who knows?" the High King threw up his hands in defeat, then headed for the door. "I'm going to bed." He left without another word, leaving Círdan and Encaitar alone in his study.  
  
"Well?" Encaitar asked his friend after a moments pause. "What do you think of this?"  
  
"That boy is not normal." Círdan repeated. Encaitar rolled his eyes.  
  
"Besides that." he said.  
  
"I do not know." Círdan said, looking disturbed. "I do not know."  
  
---  
  
If any of the court of Gil-galad noticed over the next few weeks that the newly arrived Lord Belldaug had fallen out of favour with the High King, none of them showed it. Indeed, they only truly had a day or so during which such a tidbit would have interested them, for on the third day after Belldaug, Encaitar and Círdan's arrival in Lindon, a messenger came from the Silvan realm of the Greenwood, bringing word that a representative of that land was finally being sent to the King's court. This also, of course, thoroughly distracted Gil-galad from his ire at Belldaug, and the young Lord was forgotten.  
  
Belldaug, however, found that being forgotten was entirely to his liking. Like most young ones do, he was quickly settling in to life in Lindon as if he had never been elsewhere, and with the High King ignoring him as no one of consequence, those in the court of Lindon treated Belldaug as no one with any influence, and spoke freely around, and to, him.  
  
So Belldaug learned of the approaching envoy, and the preparations being made to welcome him. He spent much of his time in the court, and when he wished to be alone, he went to the library in the palace and read all the books he could find that even mentioned Silvan elves. When Belldaug was tired of both the court and books, he went out into the city to see what the common citizens might know about Silvan Elves.  
  
By the time it was announced that the Silvan envoy would be arriving within a day, Belldaug was fairly convinced that the envoy would, at best, be uncomfortable during the planned welcome, and at worst, detest the welcome and return home almost immediately. This did, of course, depend on three things - the accuracy of Belldaug's information, the tolerance of the envoy for different customs, and the envoy's skill at diplomacy. Whatever the outcome, however, Belldaug could not resist seeing it himself, and thus readily accepted Círdan and Encaitar's offer to see that he was among the welcoming party for the Silvan envoy.  
  
It was a clear, hot day when the welcoming party was gathered in the courtyard of the palace. The Silvan envoy had already entered the city, so they did not have long to wait out in the sun, but it appeared that the envoy was taking their time going through the city, as several of the welcome party were looking somewhat uncomfortable in their heavy formal robes by the time the gates opened to admit the Silvan Elves, despite the natural Elvish endurance of extreme temperatures. Belldaug couldn't help but wonder, as the envoy entered the palace courtyard, how the High King's Herald, the half-elf Elrond, would have handled the heat. Lord Elrond was, however, in Imladris, so Belldaug turned his attention from his wonderings to the approaching envoy.  
  
A quick count revealed, much to Belldaug's surprise, that there was little more to the Silvan party than six guards and the envoy. The envoy himself was, rather unexpectedly, very tall and very blond. His looks, on the whole, were right on the edge of what could be called Vanyarin, and he held himself with a surety and arrogance that made Belldaug immediately fear the worst outcome from this encounter. And that was before he noticed the crown of leaves that the envoy wore. He held back a groan when he did see the crown - the envoy was evidently one of the royal family of the Greenwood. This would either go very well or very horribly bad.  
  
"Greetings and welcome to Lindon." Gil-galad said loudly, breaking into Belldaug's appraisal of the envoy. "We are honoured and pleased to have a representative of the Greenwood join Us in Our fair land." The envoy simply sat on his horse for a moment, eyeing the High King thoughtfully. Then he dismounted gracefully and strode up to the King, stopping only a few feet in front to bow respectfully.  
  
"Greetings. I am Thranduil Oropherion, Crown Prince of the Greenwood. It is my honour and pleasure to join you in your land." the envoy replied as he straightened. An almost imperceptible ripple ran throughout the welcoming party at the revelation that the envoy was the Crown Prince, and out of the corner of his eye, Belldaug caught the High King's Seneschal slip out of the crowd, no doubt to go order different, more luxurious chambers readied quickly for the Prince. It was, Belldaug reflected as he turned his attention back to the King, a good thing that the pleasantries would likely take awhile. Still, Belldaug mused, it was the Crown Prince's own fault if he did not have proper rooms - there had been plenty of time to inform Gil-galad of his rank before he arrived.  
  
Gil-galad made the pleasantries stretch out as long as he could, and then offered the new arrivals a short tour of the palace grounds, hoping to give his servants more time to prepare appropriate chambers. Prince Thranduil was looking slightly annoyed, however, and politely refused the tour, suggesting that another time when he was less tired from travel would be more appropriate for it. Gil-galad conceded to the Princes wishes, and then went about leading the Prince along the longest path possible, without going through the same corridor more than once, to the guest rooms reserved for visiting rulers. There were, thankfully, a good half dozen of the royal guest rooms, as the High King was accustomed to entertaining his fellow rulers in his court, so even though Círdan was here, there were more rooms remaining for Thranduil.  
  
Once Thranduil had been delivered to his rooms, and his guards shown where they could stay, the welcoming party split up. As Thranduil had not immediately been offended by the High King's delaying tactics, Belldaug decided that he was probably of the diplomatic, understanding sort, so even if Belldaug's information about Silvan elves had been incorrect, the Prince would most likely not storm off in anger. With that decision made, Belldaug, who did not feel like the company of the court this evening, returned to his rooms to read, and have supper brought to him.  
  
---  
  
Thranduil breathed in deeply as he stepped out into the palace gardens, and let out a long sigh of relief. Due to his refusal of a tour earlier, it had taken him some time to find the gardens, but it had been relatively easy to find them when compared with the difficulty of extricating himself from the clutches of the High King Gil-galad's court. Especially the maidens...Thranduil shuddered slightly as he recalled how what seemed to be every single unmarried maiden in the room had gravitated towards him at every single opportunity. How it had gotten out that he was not yet bound, he didn't know, but it was beyond being annoying.  
  
He had finally found that the maidens would leave him be if he was speaking with the High King's military advisors and generals, but even the Crown Prince of the Greenwood could only take so much talk of strategy and war in one night when there was not an immediate need for it. He had escaped from both maidens and military advisors through sheer luck and timing, and was now looking forward to a walk in the garden before attempting to find his way to his quarters, already knowing that he would run into a half dozen unmarried maidens in-between the gardens and his room, all of whom would offer to show him the way to go while subsequently inviting him to various events.  
  
"A lovely night, isn't it?" the male voice from the trees startled Thranduil after he had been walking for some time, and the Prince dropped instinctively into a defensive crouch, scanning the tops of the trees that he had been walking beside, and contemplating climbing, for the past few minutes.  
  
"Yes, quite." Thranduil replied warily, rising from his crouch when no immediate danger presented itself. Disconcerteningly, however, since he was used to being the one to surprise and hide from other, the Prince still could not see the source of the voice.  
  
"You can't see me, can you?" the voice asked with amusement, unnervingly echoing Thranduil's thoughts.  
  
"No." Thranduil grudgingly admitted, and instantly a shape dissolved out of the darkness, leaping down from one of the trees to land a few feet away from Thranduil. The figure took a few steps forward, even as Thranduil took a few back, and revealed himself to be a young Elf with green eyes and hair so golden Thranduil was surprised he had missed it among the tree tops.  
  
"Lord Belldaug of the House of the Golden Flower." the Elf introduced himself, bowing slightly.  
  
"Lord?" Thranduil said somewhat incredulously, arching and eyebrow as he looked the obviously young elf up and down.  
  
"Prince?" Belldaug replied, copying Thranduil's tone and manner exactly. Thranduil glared slightly at the Elf, and Belldaug smiled slightly. "I was given the title not long ago when my parents decided to let me leave Valinor with Lord Encaitar to come here." Thranduil nodded, then frowned slightly.  
  
"Your House sounds familiar." the Prince said, and to his surprise, Belldaug snorted lightly.  
  
"I would be amazed if it didn't. There are few in any land that have not heard of my relative, Glorfindel of Gondolin." he said.  
  
"Ah, right, one of the Balrog-slayers." Thranduil said with a nod.  
  
"One of...?" Belldaug unexpectedly burst out laughing. "You are the first I have heard acknowledge the fact that Lord Glorfindel was not the only one to slay a Balrog!" Thranduil shrugged.  
  
"Others may choose to give him more glory because his success in slaying a Balrog had more immediate, and obvious, consequences, but who is to say what damage Gothmog might have done had Ecthelion not defeated him? And the Balrogs that those of the House of the Hammer slew might have destroyed all survivors if not for that House's courage." the Prince said. Belldaug shot Thranduil a look of admiration.  
  
"I believe I like you." he said.  
  
"I'm so glad." Thranduil replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Belldaug's lips twitched in an attempt to smile, and he opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled at the same time as Thranduil - and found none other than the elusive maiden Nîdae. Belldaug sucked in a breath, having not seen the maiden since he arrived and the feeling to stay away from her now returning full force. Thranduil also drew in a breath, but his reaction was at the maiden's grey appearance and obvious grief.  
  
"My lady." Belldaug said stiffly, being the first to react. Nîdae ignored his words, however, and instead wandered over to him somewhat aimlessly, held out a flower while projecting the utmost disinterest in whether or not he took it, and when he did, wandered over to Thranduil and did the same. The prince, confused, did as Belldaug had and took the flower, then watched the maiden curiously as she continued her wandering off into the garden, disappearing from sight fairly quickly. He turned to Belldaug with a look of confusion.  
  
"Her name is Nîdae. She is a survivor of the sons of Fëanor's attack on the mouth of Sirion." Belldaug replied with a shrug. "As I have been told, she has been like that ever since they found her. Though I have not heard of her giving out flowers before." Belldaug looked at his flower in confusion, and then suddenly stilled as he recognized what it was. He let out a quiet curse, and Thranduil looked at him sharply.  
  
"This is the flower of my House." Belldaug explained, holding up the golden flower. Thranduil arched an eyebrow, clearly not understanding the implications of such a thing, and Belldaug sighed. "The first night I arrived here in Lindon, Lady Nîdae came into the dance hall and Gil-galad decided to introduce me to her in the hopes of getting a reaction out of her. He got one. She curtseyed and acknowledged my verbally, when she has not, to anyone's knowledge, spoken in the past three thousand years, let alone curtseyed to anyone." Belldaug looked in the direction the maiden had gone with exasperation. "She has apparently singled me out as one to act different around."  
  
"I would think that you would be glad to use the opportunity to help alleviate some of her obvious grief?" Thranduil said, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"_Lau._" Belldaug said, surprisingly sharply, then sighed. "My every instinct screams at me to avoid her." There was silence for a moment, and then Belldaug bowed slightly to Thranduil. "If you'll forgive me, my lord, I believe I shall return to my rooms for tonight and leave you to your walk." Thranduil nodded.  
  
"I hope I shall see you again." he said.  
  
"As long as you do not stay to near to the High King." Belldaug said dryly, and then turned and melted into the night without anymore explanation, leaving Thranduil to return his attention to the flower he still held.  
  
"How interesting." The prince murmured.  
  
---  
  
In the end, Thranduil wandered the gardens for several hours, thinking over his impressions of Gil-galad's court, and his brief encounter with Lord Belldaug. He also contemplated the High King himself, along with the visiting Lord Círdan. He had found it somewhat surprising that the Lord of the Grey Havens was at court, but he had received the impression that Lord Círdan visiting was actually not all that uncommon a thing. Thranduil idly wondered how much Círdan could truly have to do at the Grey Havens if he could leave for several months frequently enough that the Lindon court treated him as one of their own.  
  
"Gil-galad will have you engaged in formalities all of tomorrow. You should get your rest while you can." Thranduil looked up from the flower that he still held to find none other than the subject of his thoughts before him.  
  
"Lord Círdan." he said politely, nodding in the Elf's direction. Círdan gave a quick, small bow in Thranduil's direction in response.  
  
"I must say, I'm surprised to find you wandering without guards. I was under the impression that your father does not yet fully trust Gil-galad." Círdan said.  
  
"My father is not here." Thranduil said tightly. Círdan arched an eyebrow, then silently conceded the topic with a slight nod of his head. Instead, he turned his attention to the flower Thranduil was holding. He only looked at it idly, at first, then suddenly straightened as he inspected it closer, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"Where did you get that?" he asked intently.  
  
"The Lady Nîdae decided to provide both Lord Belldaug and I with them earlier in my 'wanderings'." Thranduil replied, watching Círdan covertly for any subtle reaction to the news. He did not need to do so, however, as Círdan's surprise was clear enough for anyone to see.  
  
"Did you happen to see where she found it?" Círdan asked. Thranduil arched an eyebrow.  
  
"No." he replied, and Círdan sighed. Thranduil turned curious. "What more is there about this flower that I have not been told? Besides the fact that it was the Lady Nîdae who gave it to him, Lord Belldaug did not act as if there was anything out of the ordinary in being handed the flower representing his House."  
  
"Of course Belldaug wouldn't find anything out of the ordinary in being handed one of the Golden Flowers. They are quite common in Valinor still." Círdan said, shaking his head. "But here? That particular type of flower has not been seen in these lands since Gondolin fell." Thranduil's eyebrows shot upward, and he looked at the flower with new curiosity.  
  
"If I may, I believe Gil-galad should see this flower, and hear the tale about how it appeared." Círdan said. Thranduil held out the flower with a shrug.  
  
"Take it to him and tell him that the Lady Nîdae handed it to both me and Lord Belldaug, then." the Prince said, then grinned slightly and added before Círdan could insist that he come and tell Gil-galad himself, "For myself, I believe I am going to take your advice and get my rest while I can." Círdan shot Thranduil an amused look as he took the flower, and then the two exchanged slight bows before going their separate ways.  
  
Thranduil, absorbed now in the thorough puzzle of the Lady Nîdae and Lord Belldaug that he suddenly found himself involved in, did not even notice the strategically placed maidens as he made his way back to his rooms, stopping only twice in his journey to ask a guard for directions.  
  
---  
  
Gil-galad looked up as the report he was in the middle of reading was suddenly obscured by a flower, and was not surprised to find that Círdan had, yet again, managed to sneak into his study without his hearing. But the Shipwright did not have his normal teasing expression on. No indeed - he waited just long enough to be sure Gil-galad had seen and recognized him, then began pacing.  
  
"Do you know what that flower is?" he asked. Gil-galad looked down at the flower on the report with a critical eye.  
  
"It looks familiar, but I could not say where I've seen it before." the High King said after a moment.  
  
"Probably in history books." Círdan grumbled lightly, then suddenly whirled, stepped in front of Gil-galad, and picked up the flower, holding it between them like it was the most important thing in the world. "This is _Ilaurëalót_ - or _Imalthenloth_, if you prefer the Sindarin version. The Golden Flower."  
  
"The flower from which the House of the Golden Flower took its name." Gil-galad said, looking at the flower with new interest. "I thought it was long since gone from these shores?"  
  
"It is. Or was supposed to be." Círdan said irritably, tossing the flower back onto the report, where Gil-galad immediately retrieved it from, inspecting it curiously as Círdan resumed his pacing.  
  
"Where did this one come from, then?" Gil-galad finally asked.  
  
"Nîdae gave Prince Thranduil and Belldaug each one when they were out in the garden - not long ago, from what I could tell." Círdan replied with a sigh, flopping down in one of the chairs across from Gil-galad and staring broodingly out the window.  
  
"Do you really think Lord Belldaug would leave if I ordered him to spend more time with Nîdae?" Gil-galad asked after a moment, still inspecting the flower.  
  
"Yes." Círdan said dully. "He will probably be doing so, anyways, when Encaitar decides to return to Valinor. I fear Lindon has not been all he expected, though he has fit in admirably well." There was a short silence.  
  
"Well, if I cannot be the direct cause of him spending more time with Nîdae, perhaps I can be the indirect cause." the High King mused. "Lord Angahonda did say the boy was a military genius, after all. And you said he and Prince Thranduil were in the gardens together earlier?"  
  
"Yes. The Prince was more puzzled by the flower and Nîdae than anything else, so I assume he and Belldaug got along fine." Círdan replied, smiling slightly as he saw where Gil-galad was heading.  
  
"Very well then, We shall ask him to sit in on Our royal council with the intention of seeing if he might wish to join it." Gil-galad said solemnly. Círdan nodded, just as solemnly, and they looked at each other for a moment before chuckling at the same time. Gil-galad held the flower out to Círdan. "Now take your flower and get out of here so I can get some work done. Between Prince Thranduil's imminent arrival, and your and Encaitar's hijinks, I have gotten nothing done in these past few weeks."  
  
"Hijinks? Whatever do you mean, Your Majesty?" Círdan asked innocently as he rose and took the outstretched flower. Gil-galad cast Círdan and amused look, but decided not to rise to the bait by mentioning just HOW many times the city guard had picked up Círdan and Encaitar the past few weeks, instead making shooing motions at the Lord of the Grey Havens. Círdan smirked, bowed only slightly disrespectfully, and then left. Gil-galad sighed and shook his head before returning to the interrupted report.

* * *

Translations:  
_'Lau.'_ - No. (Quenya)  
  



	4. It's Alive!

** The House of the Golden Flower **

  
  
Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Laurind and Nîdae. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien - or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)  
  
Author's Note:  
First off, I'd like to thank all you wonderful reviewers out there. It is deffinately a first for me to have 90 reviews for the first 3 chapters of a FanFiction. You are all wonderful people.  
  
Anyways. I tried serious chapter titles, but, well, I did serious (and one-word) chapter titles in 'The Games of the Gods'. So here begins the more humourous chapter titles, which will probably end out akin to 'No Eyes Needed' chapter titles in their silliness. Because, well, one must have some humour in an otherwise very serious fanfic. nodnod  
  
So, I will once again thank all my reviewers for their feedback, and remind everyone (whether they're reviewers or not) that they should feel free to point out any mistakes I've made. Now enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

Chapter 4: It's Alive!  
  
Gil-galad did indeed approach Belldaug the next day about sitting on his council with the intention of joining, and was quite pleased when Belldaug accepted. He knew from the amused glance of the visiting Prince Thranduil, however, that if Belldaug couldn't figure out for himself that the tale of Lord Angahonda bugging Gil-galad to give Belldaug a chance on the council was a cover, then the Crown Prince of the Greenwood would inform the newest soon-to-be council member as soon as Gil-galad had left.  
  
This did not, of course, bother Gil-galad in the least, as he wouldn't have considered asking Belldaug to eventually join his council as part of a ruse if he hadn't thought that Belldaug not only had the military skills, but the political skills, as well, to handle the position. The High King still doubted, however, that the two would figure out his real reason. This, too, was perfectly all right with Gil-galad, as he felt that a High King needed to have a touch of mysteriousness about their actions and decisions from time to time.  
  
Had Gil-galad heard the discussion after he left Belldaug and Thranduil to their visit, however, his ego might have taken somewhat of a blow, as it took the two young nobles a total of ten minutes to figure out Gil-galad's true reason for asking Belldaug to sit on his council. Gil-galad may have been able to soothe the hurt somewhat, though, had he known that the two in question had been discussing Nîdae, and the puzzles around her, when the High King had knocked on Belldaug's door.  
  
"Perhaps it is a good thing, anyways." Thranduil said with amusement. "If the High King can be so transparent, he and his council probably need as much help as they can get."  
  
"And I take it you think I am the type of help they need?" Belldaug asked with equal amusement.  
  
"Well, you DO have twice as many brains as even the smartest of the idiots that seem to proliferate in these halls." Thranduil said with a very un-Princely snort.  
  
"You know, you are the second person since I arrived to tell me that I am smarter than most of the others here." Belldaug said, still clearly amused. "I shall have to be careful, or I will get a swelled head."  
  
"If you do, it will be well deserved." Thranduil stated.  
  
---  
  
The first few council sessions that Belldaug attended, there was little of interest to him, and what was of interest to him, he had little to nothing to contribute to, even had he been allowed to contribute at all. It was not encouraging when a few questions to Círdan revealed that yes, all council sessions tended to be like that. At the fourth council session, however, Angahonda brought up military matters, and there was soon a spirited debate going between him and three other lords as to where several companies of the army were currently stationed.  
  
The lords debating against Angahonda were quite adamant that the companies were needed where they were - which was entirely understandable, since the soldiers were currently stationed on those particular lords' lands. Angahonda, however, insisted that the companies were doing nothing but draining the royal coffers where they currently were, and wanted them either recalled or restationed, preferably near the southern border. Belldaug listened to the debate for awhile, and then, unable to stand the pointlessness of it all anymore, summoned a page and wrote a quick note to Thranduil with a suggestion.  
  
Thranduil, Belldaug was pleased to note, read the suggestion quickly and unobtrusively, then shot an appreciative look in Belldaug's direction before returning his attention to the council and clearing his throat to catch the lords attention. When he had it, he calmly suggested that, since these were companies of the royal army that they were talking about, and Angahonda was in charge of said army, Angahonda should be able to move the companies wherever he wished, as long as he had the approval of the King - which he did, Angahonda was quick to point out.  
  
When the others lords began to protest to this to Gil-galad himself, Thranduil spoke right over them and continued along to suggest that if the lords truly wished to have companies of the royal army on their lands, perhaps an arrangement could be reached where they could pay the soldiers themselves. The other lords got very quiet for a moment, then calmly conceded that perhaps Lord Angahonda was right and the companies were needed on the border. Thranduil tipped his chair back slightly to roll his eyes at Belldaug, who smiled with amusement and satisfaction.  
  
The next day, Gil-galad asked Belldaug, formally, to take a seat on the council, having learned from Thranduil that Belldaug had suggested appealing to the lord's pocket books to settle the debate at the previous meeting. Belldaug was more than happy to accept it - as Thranduil had said, Gil-galad needed all the help he could get with his council.  
  
So Belldaug found himself settling into life in Lindon. His friendship with Thranduil grew, and to both of their amusement, those on the council soon came to hate Belldaug for his quite sensible - and entirely logical - suggestions and opinions. There were only a few on the council that didn't seem to take a disliking to him after the first few council sessions that he attended as a full member, and most of those were the sensible military or economic advisors – all in all, exactly the sort of crowd Belldaug preferred to have like him. Especially since Thranduil seemed to have been excluded from that same crowd and was forced to spend his time with the 'simpering idiots unwothy of being called Elves, let alone nobles', as he frequently called them. It was nothing personal against Thranduil, it was simply that his personality did not mix with that of anyone else who was not either Belldaug, of the Greenwood, or completely lacking in brains.  
  
Of course, after a few weeks, Belldaug and Thranduil found their 'split' social situation to be a great advantage, as between the two of them, they managed to become the most well-informed Lords in all the court – which they took great pleasure in. Gil-galad tried, several times, along with his spymaster, to get them pulled into his intelligence network, but soon found that their interests in the use of their knowledge lay far away from helping Gil-galad rule his kingdom. Very far. Gil-galad had to eventually order them to stop purposely stirring up the court, which they only grudgingly agreed to do – and even then they didn't really stop, merely became most discreet and secretive about how they stirred things up.  
  
Of Nîdae, Belldaug saw nothing more until the time came, three months after his arrival in Lindon, for Círdan and Encaitar to leave. Following the 'out of sight, out of mind' philosophy, Belldaug had almost completely forgotten about the maiden until she turned up in the courtyard as Círdan and Encaitar were just heading off, looking as she usually did except for a familiar golden flower tucked up behind her ear. Everyone in the courtyard stilled as she entered, and for a wonder, it almost seemed as if she paused and looked around, wondering what everybody was looking at, before she went along in her usual wandering way. Not to the surprise of Belldaug, she managed to head almost straight for him, and was soon in front of him. Once more, she quietly acknowledged him in Quenya, and then simply stood beside him, seemingly not even paying attention as he bid goodbye to Círdan. Her presence unnerved Belldaug, so he kept his goodbye short, and made his escape as quickly as possible, with an amused Thranduil following.  
  
No sooner had Belldaug and Thranduil settled in one of the gardens to discuss the maidens appearance, however, than Nîdae appeared again. Belldaug grumbled something unintelligible, then quickly rose and headed off, clearly expecting Thranduil to follow. The Prince of the Greenwood started to, but paused when he realized that Nîdae was ignoring them more completely than normal in favour of climbing the tree they had been sitting underneath - and applying more concentration to it then he had been told she applied to anything. Curious, he returned to the tree and watched as she slowly, laboriously, made her way up to the upper branches. Once there, she stood, using her considerable height to look eastward over the canopy of leaves.  
  
And as much fun as Thranduil was having looking up her skirt, he decided he was much more curious about what she was looking for, so he nimbly climbed the other side of the tree, coming up on the other side of the trunk from her. Nîdae did not acknowledge his presence, but then, he did not expect her to, so he simply looked eastward himself to see if he could see what she was looking at. After a moment, he shook his head, recalling who he was dealing with and that she was most probably looking at nothing, as she usually did. But when he turned to head back down the tree to find Belldaug once again, he caught sight of Nîdae's face, and saw that her vision was, for once, actually focused, and she seemed to be scanning the horizon for something.  
  
Thranduil returned his gaze to the horizon, curious now, but could not see anything out of the ordinary. He turned back to Nîdae with a thoughtful frown, then with a shrug, decided that she was already acting out of what he had been told was common character for her, so he might as well ask and see what happened.  
  
"What are you looking for?" he asked. There was a long pause, during which Nîdae seemed not to have heard, and then she answered with one simple word.  
  
"_Már._" she said, then turned and leapt nimbly down the tree. Thranduil watched from the tree with astonishment as she agilely landed on the ground, and then abruptly resumed her ambling pace through the gardens.  
  
"I say again - how very interesting." Thranduil said thoughtfully after a moment, then followed Nîdae's example in leaping down agilely from the tree before setting off to find Belldaug.  
  
---  
  
"I think my royal plan has royally backfired." Gil-galad said to Elrond several weeks later, turning away from the window in Elrond's study that overlooked the palace gardens. The _peredhel_ had just arrived from Imladris, and had been attempting to catch up with some paperwork when Gil-galad had wandered in to 'visit' – otherwise known as 'distract' – him.  
  
"My lord?" Elrond asked, arching an eyebrow as he looked up from his desk, where he was still trying to get some work done.  
  
"Well, half the point of asking Lord Belldaug to sit on my council was to see if I could get him and Nîdae to run into each other more often." Gil-galad said, and then waved a hand expressively at the window. "Yet Prince Thranduil spends more time in her company than Lord Belldaug. In fact, I have yet to see Lord Belldaug and Nîdae in the same place since Círdan and Lord Encaitar left."  
  
"I believe you wrote to me that the whole idea about having Lord Belldaug spend more time with Nîdae was to see if he could get more responses out of her?" Elrond asked. Gil-galad blinked at his Herald, not catching on to what the _peredhel_ meant. "Prince Thranduil seems to be getting responses out of Nîdae just as easily as Lord Belldaug." Elrond said patiently. "As evidenced by the fact that she actually showed up to the picnic he invited her on in the gardens today." The High King frowned slightly, and then looked out the window once again. "Perhaps your plan did not so much backfire as...take on a life of its own?" Gil-galad looked at Elrond blankly for a moment, trying to decide if his Herald was teasing him. In the end, he just chuckled, shook his head, and then waved his hand dismissively before wandering out of Elrond's study to leave him to his work, much to the half-elf's relief.  
  
---  
  
"What could possibly be dangerous about her?" Thranduil asked Belldaug patiently. "She is a grief-stricken maiden, Belldaug. The one time she spotted my ornamental defense dagger she was _afraid_ of it." She had also become afraid of Thranduil himself and avoided the Prince for three days, but Thranduil didn't mention that.  
  
"It's not that I feel she's dangerous." Belldaug said irritably, continuing with his pacing. The two were currently in Thranduil's rooms, and had been having a pleasant chat out on the balcony when Thranduil had brought up the topic of Nîdae. As usual for Belldaug since Círdan had left, he had soon become unsettled and annoyed, standing and beginning to pace within a few moments of the first mention of the mysterious maiden. It was a new, and rather unpleasant, habit of Belldaug's, as Thranduil and he had had many discussions about the lady Nîdae when Thranduil had first arrived, and now the Prince found that such discussions were almost impossible to carry on, with Belldaug becoming so irritable.  
  
"What, then?" Thranduil's tone made the question into almost a demand, and Belldaug shot him a sour look. "Belldaug, you were the first one in over _three thousand years_ to get a response out of her. Are you not even a little curious as to why?"  
  
"I may have gotten a response out of her, yet you seem to be getting along fine with her now. You went on a picnic with her in the gardens today, for Valar's sake! I don't see why you cannot just ask her why for me and then tell me." Belldaug replied.  
  
"She replies with single words, Belldaug, if at all - and always in Quenya, which I have only a basic knowledge of." Thranduil said, shooting his friend a tired look. "Truthfully, it was as much a surprise to me as to anyone else that she not only accepted, but actually showed up, to that picnic."  
  
"So then what's the point of me asking her why she responded to me?" Belldaug demanded.  
  
"If you were the first person to get a response, period, out of her, you may well be the first one who can get a multiple word response out of her, as well." Thranduil said with annoyance. "Belldaug, she responds to you - if I mention your name, I instantly have her attention, and it remains on me until I have finished speaking about you. And whenever she has seen you, or been near to you for any amount of time, she always does something that she has never done before. The first time, she spoke and curtseyed. The second time, she handed out a flower from your House that has not been seen outside of Valinor since Gondolin fell. The third time she climbed a tree! Who knows what would happen if you were to spend even more time around her? Perhaps, Valar forbid, she might actually become a real person, instead of just the shadow she is now!" Thranduil hadn't noticed his voice rising as he spoke, but he was aware that he finished in a near shout, and then absently wondered when he had risen from his chair. But if Belldaug seemed surprised at the Prince's vehemence, he did not show it, stopping his pacing to stand with fists clenched at his sides, glaring furiously at Thranduil.  
  
"You have no idea how much I would wish for that to happen. I am not one to let people suffer when it can be avoided." Belldaug said quietly, but dangerously.  
  
"Then why don't you help her?" Thranduil demanded. "You've already started to!"  
  
"Because doing so will probably do more harm than good!" Belldaug had finally exploded, and Thranduil was startled to feel the power that had suddenly appeared in his friend - even more so when he saw, in the shadows around Belldaug's feet, that the young Lord had begun to glow somewhat. "Every time I am near her, I have the feeling that if I stay near her much longer it might mean her death, or worse! If it was not for that, Thranduil, I would have long ago aided her! For Valar's sake, she is my-" Belldaug stopped abruptly, blinking in confusion.  
  
"Belldaug?" Thranduil asked cautiously, approaching his friend with a worried expression.  
  
"What just happened, Thranduil?" Belldaug asked the Greenwood Prince after a pause, looking at his friend with a somewhat scared expression.  
  
"You...became rather upset." Thranduil said hesitantly. "You were about to say that Nîdae was your something when you stopped abruptly."  
  
"Yes, I know that." Belldaug said, his voice shaky. "But where did it _come_ from?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Thranduil asked curiously.  
  
"I...don't know." Belldaug said, suddenly very confused. There was a short silence between the two of them.  
  
"Perhaps we should go see the healers?" Thranduil suggested after a time.  
  
"That might be wise." Belldaug agreed shakily, and the two quickly headed out of the chambers for the healers. When they got to the healers, however, they found, to their surprise, that they were not the only ones recently arrived with strange tales. The lady Nîdae was also there, thoroughly sedated, and some quick questioning from Thranduil revealed that her maids had carried her in, unconscious, not long ago, after she went into a rage that had resulted in a guard knocking her out for her own protection.  
  
"It was very strange." the maid who Thranduil questioned said, sounding very disturbed. "She's never been anything but calm, and yet suddenly she was screaming and crying and yelling about death."  
  
"Death?" Thranduil asked curiously.  
  
"Yes, she kept saying that 'he' was going to die, and that she had to go to 'him', yet until the guard came and knocked her out, there was not a male within sight." The maid answered, then shook her head and sighed. "Ah well. It shall have to be added to the list of other odd things she has done recently."  
  
"Like speak, climb trees, and go on picnics?" Thranduil asked dryly, and the maid shot him a wry look before returning to her mistress's side. Gil-galad arrived not long after that, having apparently been told by the guards about Nîdae's explosion, and was heartily surprised to find Belldaug there as well as Nîdae.  
  
"What have you two been doing now?" Gil-galad asked curiously.  
  
"Nothing." Belldaug snapped irritably, not pleased at having to spend time in the same room with Nîdae, even if she was unconscious. Gil-galad arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Belldaug got mad. Nîdae exploded. At virtually the same time, from what I hear." Thranduil said dryly from where he was standing looking out one of the windows in the room. He shot an ironic look back at Gil-galad. "I believe you can put the rest together yourself." Gil-galad frowned at the Crown Prince, who blandly returned his gaze to the window. There was a moment of quiet, except for the questions the healers were asking Belldaug, as Gil-galad did indeed put the rest together himself, and a few extra plans beside. Eventually, he went over to where Nîdae was resting and watched her for a time before going to speak quietly with the healers.  
  
In the end, much to the surprise of everyone in the room except the healers and the High King's personal body guard - who had followed Gil-galad in and never really showed much emotion anyways - Gil-galad settled himself in a seat near the door and seemingly prepared himself for a long wait. Belldaug, who was still being checked over by healers, looked at the High King curiously, but decided not to comment as he answered yet another question from the healers.  
  
Close to an hour later, the room, and its occupants, were much as they had been when Gil-galad had walked in, with the notable exceptions that Thranduil had sat down, all but one of Nîdae's maids had left, and Belldaug was now certain that the healers were trying to keep him there. The High King and his body guard had not moved an inch since Gil-galad had sat down in his chair and begun staring thoughtfully out a window.  
  
"I already answered that question half an hour ago!" Belldaug finally exploded to one of the healers, being the first one to speak loudly enough for the entire room to hear since Thranduil's impertinent comment to the High King.  
  
"Did you? My apologies. I did not know." the healer replied calmly.  
  
"Of course not, because you keep switching healers, and none of you seem to know what the others have done!" Belldaug snapped. "You are all useless around here! Honestly, it's a good thing Sauron hasn't decided to attack yet, if this is the quality of healers that are in the _High King's_ palace!" Belldaug ended in a growl, then roughly pushed past the healers and made for the doorway of the infirmary – only to find his way blocked by the High King's body guard.  
  
"Excuse me." he said, politely as he could considering how annoyed he was.  
  
"They won't move." Gil-galad commented blandly from where he was sitting. Both Thranduil and Belldaug turned to the High King at that statement.  
  
"And why not?" Thranduil asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"Because I am tired of watching Belldaug and Nîdae play hide and seek with each other." Gil-galad replied. "I have waited over three thousand years to discover the answer to the riddle of Nîdae, and now that I have found the one who might be able to answer it, I find I can no longer be as patient as I was." Belldaug growled slightly, and felt words forming in his throat, but abruptly, he felt a surge of great disapproval, and he stopped with a blink of surprise, even as Nîdae suddenly sat up.  
  
"Peace, Ereinion." she said sternly to Gil-galad, then stood and glided over to Belldaug. Belldaug was already as speechless as everyone else in the room at Nîdae's words, but he soon found that even thoughts would not form as his gaze locked with Nîdae's. He tried to break away, but the pull was too strong, and Belldaug felt himself falling into their green depths once more – until suddenly, Nîdae was no longer before him, but fire, burning hot and bright, singeing his skin and burning his clothes and hair. He was vaguely aware that his breath had caught, and there was no more air in his lungs. He fought to draw something into his lungs, and partially succeeded, only to let the sparse amount of air out in a gurgle of pain.  
  
Then suddenly the vision was ripped away, and Belldaug found himself once again facing Nîdae. He ripped his eyes away from hers in a spurt of desperation, then swiftly turned and ran from the healing hall, ducking around Gil-galad's guards before they had time to react and dashing down the hall at break-neck speed.  
  
"After him!" Gil-galad roared to his guards, and they hurried off after Belldaug.  
  
"They will not find him." the quiet voice put in after the sounds of the guards pursuit had faded, and Gil-galad rounded on Nîdae with a heavy frown.  
  
"Why? What did you do to him?" Gil-galad demanded.  
  
"Reminded him." Nîdae replied with a shrug. Gil-galad's frown turned into a scowl.  
  
"Cease your riddling. What did you do?" the High King demanded, putting all his strength behind his voice and drawing himself up to his full height. To others in the room, it was an impressive sight, and all of them – even Thranduil, though he would not have admitted it – found themselves glad not to be the center of the High King's attention. But more impressive than the High King was the fact that Nîdae did not flinch. In fact, she seemed more amused by Gil-galad than anything else.  
  
"I say again - peace, Ereinion. He will be fine." And with that, Nîdae strolled out of the room, followed quickly by Prince Thranduil, and leaving a surprised High King behind, along with several healers who were desperately trying not to laugh.

* * *

Translations:  
_'Már.'_ – Home. (Quenya)  
_'peredhel'_ - half-elf (Sindarin)  
  



	5. She’s Baaaaaack!

** The House of the Golden Flower **

  
  
Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Laurind and Nîdae. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien - or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)  
  
Author's Note:  
G sharp.  
  
OK, seriously, then. You reviewers are wonderful, I cannot BELIEVE the feedback I'm getting for this story. It's flattering and downright scary all at the same time. Thank you so much.  
  
Anyways, once again, feel free to point out mistakes, I'll correct them if I can. Now, on with the story! I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Chapter 5: She's Baaaaaack!  
  
Thranduil caught up with Nîdae quickly outside of the healing halls, and settled into a pace that kept him even with her.  For a moment, he simply walked beside Nîdae, but then he couldn't resist shooting a curious look her way, and found, to his surprise, that she was watching him out the corner of her eye, a small smile on her lips.  
  
"What may I do for you, Your Highness?" she asked, and Thranduil felt a flash of irritation at the formality.  
  
"Just Thranduil, if you please." he said.  
  
"I hardly think I know you well enough to call you by your name only, Prince Thranduil." Nîdae replied, sounding somewhat amused.  
  
"Of course you do." Thranduil said somewhat crossly.  
  
"Nay, my Prince.  Nîdae knew you well enough, perhaps, but I am no longer her." the maiden beside Thranduil said kindly, and Thranduil's head whipped towards her, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked.   
  
"Nîdae was as her name suggested, a tearful shadow, broken and held by grief.  I am not a tearful shadow, nor broken and held by grief, Your Highness." the maiden beside Thranduil replied.  
  
"Who then are you?" Thranduil asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm figuring that out at the moment.  For now, Prince Thranduil, I am Lady Laurind." she gave Thranduil a brief smile then, and curtseyed lightly in front of him before disappearing through a door to her left, which Thranduil was startled to realize was the one to her own rooms.  He remained outside her door for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully, before heading off to see if anyone had located Belldaug yet.  
  
---  
  
By supper time, Belldaug had yet to be located, and Nîdae/Laurind had apparently locked herself in her rooms with her maids.  This, of course, made for a rather grumpy High King, and a brooding Prince Thranduil – neither of which, to the nobles at the palace, was classified as a Good Thing.  In fact, it was considered a very Bad Thing.  The entire court was stepping carefully when it came time for the evening meal, and many of the nobles debated eating in their own rooms that night instead of going to the main dining hall.  Curiosity, however, drew them to the dining hall, as no one had yet to find out why the King and Prince were in bad moods, and they all wanted to score social points over each other by being the ones to find out.  
  
This turned out to be a very Good Thing, as just as the servants were about to bring in the meal, Laurind appeared in the hall, and for a time, everyone was stunned to silence.  It had always been known that Nîdae was beautiful – most maidens found themselves feeling a strange combination of pity and envy towards her because of the grief that went along with those looks.  There had been many discussions as to what Nîdae might look like if she was ever pulled out of her grief and dressed in one of the newer court dresses, with her hair done up.  
  
Laurind, however, exceeded every discussion's suppositions.  With her grief at least hidden, if not gone, her skin and hair shone with renewed health – and even glowed a little.  Her hair was done up in an intricate style or braids that those versed in the subject recognized as being of Gondolin origin, with some more modern touches, like accenting beads and braids.  The dress she wore was rather simplistic compared to her hairstyle, but that much could be expected, considering she'd only had half an afternoon to get something other than her normal grey dresses.  The fabric was light green, with embroidered flowers coiling along the edges, and a gold-link belt resting on her hips.  From the way dress fit her, it was obvious that the belt was there only for decoration.  The neckline was cut surprisingly modest, almost the way a widow might wear it, while the sleeves were somewhat flared in the style of the younger maidens, and the hem of the dress trailed out behind her a short ways, in an almost royal style.  
  
After the initial shock had worn off, and everyone in court recognized this beauty as the formerly grief-stricken Nîdae, a low buzz began, males and females alike discussing her with interest, though of different kinds.  For Thranduil, the appearance of Laurind pulled him immediately out of his brooding, and he was able to nudge the High King's Seneschal to his senses and suggest adding an extra chair at the head table before Gil-galad himself had recovered from the surprise.  Gil-galad did not seem to mind Thranduil issuing that particular command when he regained his senses, motioning quickly for Cúmehtar to place the new chair in-between him and Thranduil.  The Prince, who was seated next to Gil-galad because of his station, obligingly moved over, though it was clear to all that saw that this was not a move down the table for Thranduil – it was simply the insertion of someone both Gil-galad and Thranduil wished to speak to where it would be most convenient for them to do so.  
  
Laurind did not miss the quick scramble at the high table, and looked almost amused as she glided towards the new seat.  There was, of course, a seat at one of the lower tables for Nîdae, when she decided to join the court, and the nobles near that seat looked somewhat disappointed that this 'new' Nîdae would not be sitting there.  They quickly forgot the matter, however, as they were engaged in conversation by their other neighbors – about Laurind, of course, though everyone in the court except Thranduil still knew her as Nîdae.  
  
To the great interest of the court, it was Thranduil who rose to pull out Laurind's chair for her, before seating himself once again.  They were given little time to think on it, however, as Gil-galad ordered the food brought out as soon as Laurind had taken her seat.  Gil-galad's mood seemed much improved by Laurind's appearance, but he was obviously still somewhat grumpy, so the court kept their conversations low.  That might have just been in an attempt to overhear the conversation from the three at the middle of the head table than due to any fear of the High King, though.  
  
"Wonderful that you could join us this evening, Lady Nîdae." Gil-galad said politely as the food was served.  Laurind nodded graciously and smiled in Gil-galad's direction.  
  
"It is my pleasure, Ereinion." she said, surprisingly politely considering she had just called the High King of the Noldor by his birth name, which he hadn't gone by in several millennia.  Gil-galad arched an eyebrow at her.  
  
"I would prefer you not use that name." he said.  
  
"And I would prefer you not use Nîdae." Laurind replied sweetly.  On the other side of her, Thranduil hoped that Gil-galad hadn't heard him snicker into his goblet of wine.  
  
"What then would you prefer I use?" Gil-galad asked, with no little amount of annoyance. "You have not exactly supplied me with any other name."  
  
"Why Ereinion, I'm insulted you don't recognize me." Laurind said dryly, and then seemed to consider the High King for a moment. "But then, you _were_ barely thirty when I last saw you."  Gil-galad looked at her in confusion.  
  
"Barely thirty...?" he trailed off for a moment, his eyes unfocusing somewhat as he sent his thoughts back through his memories.  Abruptly he straightened, looking down at Laurind in surprise. "Laurind?!" he exclaimed, and the maiden smiled serenely. "How in Arda did Círdan not recognize you?" Gil-galad asked somewhat wonderingly.  
  
"Círdan has grown lazy and senile." Laurind replied with a smirk, and then amended, "My aura might have been masked somewhat by my grief, and Círdan did not know me all that well."  
  
"I take it you two once knew each other?" Thranduil interrupted.  
  
"In the sense that during the _Nirnaeth Arnoediad_, I was in charge of keeping our erstwhile King from escaping his tutors to find every puddle of mud that he could and thoroughly slaying all available Orc-bushes, yes, we once knew each other." Laurind told Thranduil with a small grin.  Thranduil arched an eyebrow, looking at the King with amusement, but Gil-galad had apparently decided to ignore them both as he attacked his dinner.  
  
"You looked after the King when he was a child, then?" Thranduil said.  
  
"Yes, though truthfully, that job description could be used to describe him at just about any age." Laurind replied with a sedate smile.  Gil-galad scowled slightly at her. "And every other soldier in this hall." Laurind added smoothly, and Gil-galad's scowl turned into a fond grin as he nodded in agreement.  
  
With the conversation started on such a vein, it wasn't long before Gil-galad's bad mood had completely dissipated and he, Thranduil and Laurind were having an energetic conversation at the high table, the fact that it was overheard by half the nobles in the hall going completely unnoticed, or ignored, by them. Though truthfully, most people didn't listen for long, as it became painfully aware that Laurind remembered EVERYTHING she had heard over the past three thousand years, and no few nobles had been rather careless about what they said around her. Consequently, she had some rather interesting stories to tell.  
  
Gil-galad and Thranduil's monopoly over the attention of the Lady Laurind, however, seemed as if it was going to come to an end when the customary after-dinner dancing began.  The nobles closed in on her like hunters on prey, and before they knew it, the High King and Prince were separated from the maiden and engaged in conversations that they could not easily break away from.  For Thranduil, this was particularly annoying, as he had been cornered by a particularly brainless Lord, and after spending the dinner in somewhat intelligent conversation with Laurind and Gil-galad, Thranduil found he could barely stand the Lord's useless babble.  He was just about ready to say something particularly nasty when none other than Laurind showed up at his side.  
  
"Lord Árasúrë." she said with what was, in Thranduil's opinion, far too innocent a smile. "How are the sheep?"  
  
"Excellent, my lady." Lord Árasúrë said, almost puffing up with pride at the mention of the prime source of his income.  
  
"They haven't been too much trouble, have they?" Laurind asked.  
  
"No no, they have been wonderful." Lord Árasúrë said with a smile.  
  
"Ah." Laurind said, and then pretended to look thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose after so many years of doing sheep farming, one must develop a sense for it – then ability to get inside the sheep's heads and determine what they're thinking?  Perhaps one may even start to think like them." Laurind finished brightly, with a smile, and thus it took a few moments for Thranduil to register what she had just implied, and when he did, he found himself struggling once again to contain laughter, especially as Laurind's implication dawned on Lord Árasúrë and he left in a huff, his nose in the air.  
  
"Think like a sheep?" Thranduil asked Laurind with a chuckle once Lord Árasúrë was out of hearing.  
  
"Well, he does tend to follow, not lead." Laurind replied sensibly, and Thranduil chuckled again.  
  
"Indeed." the Prince said, then held out his hand and bowed slightly to Laurind as he spotted another of his 'social group' heading their way. "Would you care to dance?"  
  
"I suppose I could use a break from insulting the brainless idiots of court." Laurind said mildly, taking Thranduil's hand.  The smile she flashed at him as he led her onto the dance floor, however, let the Prince know that was not the only reason for accepting.  
  
"I take it you have little tolerance for fools?" Thranduil asked lightly as they began to dance.  
  
"Very little." Laurind said with a sigh. "I am used to nobles with some brains.  Unfortunately, they seem to have all gone to Valinor."  
  
"Or died." Thranduil pointed out.  
  
"Most of them were too smart for that, but as for the few that did – Mandos' Hall _is_ in Valinor." Laurind countered with a smile.  Thranduil paused thoughtfully for a moment at that, frowning lightly.  
  
"You know, that had never really occurred to me before." he said.  Laurind's smile expanded into a grin.  
  
"Well a Prince does need to have some fallacies." she said.  
  
"Fallacies?  Me? Never." Thranduil said haughtily, pretending to look insulted.  They remained silent, eyeing each other, for a few moments, and then burst into laughter.  Those dancing nearby shot the two irritated looks, so Thranduil and Laurind quickly suppressed their laughter and made their way off the dance floor and out of the hall.  Once outside in the passageway, they burst out laughing once again, much to the amusement of the guards.  
  
"That was a short-lived dance." Laurind teased Thranduil when they'd collected themselves.  
  
"I don't really like the way they dance here, anyways." Thranduil said, waving a hand dismissively at the hall, and Laurind chuckled.  
  
"Then come, let us go for a walk in the gardens!  I can show you my garden, and then you can show me how the Wood Elves dance!" Laurind said finally when their laughter had subsided, holding out a hand to Thranduil.  He took it with a smile, and they were off for the gardens.  
  
"You have a garden?" Thranduil asked curiously as they went, and Laurind nodded, turning to him with a mischievous smile.  
  
"You didn't think I pulled those flowers for you and Lord Belldaug out of thin air, did you?" she asked, eyes twinkling.  
  
"To be honest, I didn't know quite what to think about them." Thranduil confided with a sheepish grin, and Laurind laughed lightly.  
  
They soon made their way to the palace gardens, and then Laurind led Thranduil along a convoluted path, which he was sure doubled back on itself several times, until they came upon a small plot of land.   It was nestled close to the palace wall and protected by thorny bushes, the only parting of which was hidden so well that had it not been for Laurind, Thranduil never would have found it.  What was inside the bushes, however, would have been well worth breaking through the bushes to see.  
  
It was obvious that someone spent quite a lot of time in this garden, and as a result, the beds of flowers were neatly tended and gracefully artistic, with not a weed to be seen.  The green grass of the pathway was short enough to be walked on, and not overgrown, and the fact that the majority of the flowers seemed to be the golden, softly glowing flowers of Lord Belldaug's House only enhanced the look of the garden.  Thranduil found himself gaping somewhat as they stood in the entrance to the garden.  
  
"It's a pity, really." Laurind said with a frown after a moment. "I really won't have time for this anymore, so it will probably fall into some state of disrepair."  
  
"You took care of this garden?" Thranduil asked, arching an eyebrow. "You were supposed to have been unresponsive until this afternoon."  
  
"One does not need to be responsive to care for a garden." Laurind replied, waggling her finger at him, and then sighed. "Besides, it gave me some peace." There was a pause as Laurind's face took on a sad cast, and Thranduil was sorely tempted to draw the lady beside him closer to him in an attempt to offer some comfort, but before he could move to do so, Laurind flashed him a smile and pulled him further into the garden.  "Show me how the Wood Elves dance!" she said when they had reached the center of the garden.  
  
"There is no music." Thranduil pointed out.  
  
"And since when does one need music to dance?" Laurind asked with a mischievous smile.  Thranduil chuckled, and proceeded to show Laurind a lively dance from his homeland.  At the end of it, they were both laughing at Laurind's apparent inability to pick up the steps, collapsing onto the ground beside each other as their laughter subsided into giggles.  
  
"I believe I shall stick to the dances I know from now on." Laurind stated after a time, as the two lay on the grass looking up at the stars.  
  
"Oh come now.  You just need some practice." Thranduil replied.  
  
"_'Some'_?" Laurind asked, looking over at Thranduil and arching and eyebrow.  
  
"Very well, most likely many years worth of practice." Thranduil conceded. "You would get it eventually, however.  Of that I am sure."  
  
"Most likely.  Though I would get it much easier if Gl-" Laurind stopped abruptly, turning her head away with a sigh and Thranduil looked over at her curiously.  
  
"Laurind?" he asked with concern. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Fine." she replied, flashing him an insincere smile. "Just forgot that someone who had once helped me learn new dancing styles is no longer available to do such things."  There was a moment of silence.  
  
"Has he gone to Valinor?" Thranduil inquired after a moment.  
  
"Yes." Laurind replied, and then turned to Thranduil with a mischievous smile. "Though I don't recall saying anything about the gender of the 'someone'."  
  
"The way you spoke, it was fairly obvious that the 'someone' was a he." Thranduil replied in a sensible tone of voice.  
  
"Ah." Laurind replied, and silence fell in the garden.  Laurind found herself enjoying the Silvan prince's quiet presence, while in Thranduil's mind, things were anything but quiet.  He was currently debating whether or not he should ask about Laurind's relation to this mysterious Elf that aided her in the learning of new dances, having recently moved on from debating whether or not said Elf was dead, since he recalled her comment from earlier in the evening about the Halls of Mandos being in Valinor.  His internal debate was interrupted, however, when Laurind suddenly sat bolt upright.  
  
"Excuse me, I must go." she said, and was gone before Thranduil could even raise himself from the grass.  With a low growl, he quickly made his way out of the garden and scanned the surrounding area, but Laurind was nowhere in sight.  He spent a few more minutes searching, going so far as to climb and tree and then eventually ask a few guards if they'd seen her pass, but in the end, Laurind had disappeared as surely as Belldaug, so Thranduil retired to his rooms, his brooding mood returned.  
  
---  
  
"I would speak with the High King _now_.  Not tomorrow." Laurind told the guard standing in front of her impatiently.  She had felt when the guards had finally found Belldaug, perched on the roof of one of the lower buildings in the palace, and brought him to see the High King.  Now she was trying to get in to the High King's study before Gil-galad either guessed the truth or inadvertently made Belldaug Remember something that would be painful.  
  
"The High King is busy at the moment." the guard replied stoically.  Laurind pursed her lips as she glared at the guard, but he seemed unimpressed.  
  
"It is urgent that I speak with the High King." Laurind said.  
  
"What about?" the guard asked.  
  
"It is for the King's ears only." Laurind growled.  
  
"Then I am afraid the High King is too busy to receive you." the guard replied, as calm as ever.  Laurind closed her eyes and suppressed her temper, reminding herself that the guard was only following orders.  Her anger was effectively, and completely, doused, however, when she felt a sudden wave of amusement wash over her.  Her eyes snapped open and she looked towards the door the guard was blocking her from entering.  
  
The guard was now looking at her curiously, she absently noted, as she probed along the mental connection the wave of amusement had come along.  She had used that mental connection herself earlier that day, but she had not expected Belldaug to be able to access it, let alone send anything along it, anytime soon.  From what she knew, Remembering took awhile.  As she reached the other end of the connection, however, she discovered that Belldaug was apparently not even aware that he'd sent something through their bond.  He apparently knew, in a part of his mind, that she was at the door and having annoying difficulties getting through, and had decided this was quite amusing.  This had somehow leaked back to her.  
  
Laurind debated sending something back to Belldaug, both as a form of payback for him effectively laughing at her expense and to aide him in Remembering, but decided that if he could already subconsciously Send emotions to her, she had probably best leave his mind be for the day.  What he had to Remember was going to be traumatic enough without her rushing him into the memories.  At any rate, Gil-galad was the High King of the Noldor.  He undoubtedly had enough sense to recognize a Reborn Soul when the process of Remembering had been started.  
  
So, with a serene smile that puzzled the guard, Laurind turned and headed off to her rooms for the night, idly wondering if Thranduil had been insulted by her abrupt departure.  She hoped not.  The Silvan Prince was rather refreshing to be around.  He reminded her somewhat of Lord Rog...though she had yet to decide if this was a good or a bad thing.

* * *

Translations:  
_'elleth'_ – female elf (Sindarin)  
  
Random Information:  
'_Nirnaeth Arnoediad'_ – the Battle of Unnumbered Tears.  From the Encyclopedia of Arda: _'The fifth and last of the great battles of Beleriand, called the Unnumbered Tears, in which the Noldor and their allies the Edain purposed the final overthrow of Morgoth, but were themselves defeated utterly.' _It was the one battle that the folk of Gondolin left their hidden city to fight in.  
  
Rog – Chief of the House of the Hammer of Wrath (of Gondolin).  Those of his House probably had the most in common with Dwarves out of all the Elves of Gondolin, as they did most of the mining and forging for Gondolin.  When Gondolin fell, Rog...well, he and some members of his House got a little mad and charged a bunch of Balrogs, causing the first ever death of a Balrog by Elven hands.  The Balrogs were, understandably, rather surprised, and Gothmog, Lord of the Balrogs, set up a nifty little trap so that Rog and Company couldn't get back to safety without great loss of life.  So what did Rog do?  Yep, that's right - he charged forward.  The Balrogs eventually had to call in a fire-drake to take him and his companions down, as they tended to grab fallen Balrogs' weapons and use them, quite effectively, against other Balrogs...  
  



	6. The Morning of Strange Visitors

** The House of the Golden Flower **

  
  
Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to.  The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Nîdae/Laurind.  The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien – or, more specifically, his estate.  No copyright infringement is intended.  (So please don't sue.)  
  
Author's Note:  
Meant to get this chapter up yesterday, but I forgot - terribly sorry. At least it's here, though, eh?  
  
So, thank-you to my reviewers! hands out bags of caramel cyber-popcorn Enjoy the cyber-popcorn, and the chapter! Now I gotta run, because I'm not supposed to be on the computer right now...  
  
Chapter 6: The Morning of Strange Visitors  
  
Much to Laurind's dislike, she was woken early the next morning by her maids.  Amongst their panicked babble, they managed to get across that the High King was waiting in her sitting room, wanting to talk to her - now.  To the maid's horror, as soon as Laurind figured out the message, she simply grabbed a dressing gown, wrapped it around her, and made for the door.  She was stopped by an Elven Handmaid Roadblock.  
  
"My lady, you cannot go speak to the High King in nothing but your dressing gown!" the oldest of her maids said, clearly scandalized.  
  
"Of course I can." Laurind replied patiently. "If Gil-galad insists on calling on me before I am awake, he can deal with me wearing a dressing gown." The maids twittered at Laurind's use of the High King's first name, but didn't move away from the door.  
  
"But my lady, it isn't PROPER!" another maid insisted.  
  
"Of course it isn't." Laurind replied, the patient tone gone. "Neither is the High King calling so early." With that, Laurind slipped past her maids and out into the sitting room.  Gil-galad stood from a chair and bowed politely to her as she entered.  
  
"I apologize for getting you out of bed." he said immediately, and Laurind waved a hand dismissively.  
  
"It is no matter, Your Majesty." she said.  
  
"As one who was in charge of keeping me out of trouble as a child, I believe you have the right to call me by my name and dispense with the titles." Gil-galad said, arching an eyebrow. "You certainly were not shy about doing so last night." Laurind smiled in reply.  
  
"I realized I had not sought your permission to do so, and thought it best to err on the side of caution this morning.  After all, even the High King will not rouse a lady of court out of her bed for no reason." she said.  Gil-galad chuckled.  
  
"Indeed." he said. "Very well then, shall I tell you what I roused you out of bed for?"  
  
"If you wish." Laurind replied amiably, strolling over to the couch as she motioned for Gil-galad to take a seat.  
  
"I do.  Mostly because the reason is a question that I am curious about the answer to." Gil-galad said, he and Laurind sitting at the same time.  
  
"Oh?  What is this question?" Laurind asked.  
  
"It is about Lord Belldaug." Gil-galad replied, and made as if to go on, but Laurind held up a hand to stop him, turning her attention to the door to her bedchamber.  The door was slightly open, and several maids could be seen peeking through the crack into the sitting room, all clearly curious as to what their Lady and King were discussing.  
  
"All of you.  Leave us." Laurind ordered.  One of the maids opened her mouth to protest, but a sharp glance from Laurind convinced her not to, and the maids quickly scurried into the sitting room, then out into the hall.  They were probably just going to mill around outside trying to overhear, anyways, but that door was thicker, and farther from where Laurind and Gil-galad were sitting, than the door to Laurind's bedroom.  So unless one of the maids had hearing that rivaled the army scouts', Laurind doubted they'd be able to hear much.  
  
"You were saying?" Laurind said calmly, turning back to Gil-galad after her maids had left.  Gil-galad arched an eyebrow at her, and then glanced towards the door.  
  
"Was that necessary?" he asked.  
  
"Perhaps." Laurind replied. "Your question, Gil-galad?" Gil-galad frowned lightly at Laurind for a moment, obviously debating something with himself, but in the end he gave a little sigh and leaned forward in his chair.  
  
"I want to know what you know about Lord Belldaug." Gil-galad said.  
  
"That's not really a question." Laurind replied, one eyebrow quirking upwards.  Gil-galad shot her a stern glance. "The reply could take a very long time." Laurind said, bowing to the High King's will, albeit with a very amused smile. "I've known Belldaug quite awhile."  
  
"And here I thought you'd known him no longer than I." Gil-galad replied, echoing Laurind's earlier arched eyebrow. "He is reborn, then."  
  
"Yes." Laurind replied. "He died in the fall of Gondolin."  
  
"That's impossible." Gil-galad pointed out. "Mandos would not let him out of the Halls of Waiting so soon, and I doubt the Valar in general would allow him to come back here even if Mandos did let him out so soon."  
  
"It's improbable, not impossible." Laurind corrected the High King. "I do not understand why he's here anymore than you do, but I do know that he IS reborn.  I knew him before he died, and I am not mistaken, I can guarantee you of that."  
  
"Why?" Gil-galad asked.  
  
"I share a connection with him.  I did in Gondolin, and I do now.  It is the renewal of this connection, with him finally coming close enough for me to sense that he is alive and well, which brought me out of my grief." Laurind replied.  Gil-galad frowned thoughtfully at her for a moment.  
  
"Who was he before he died?" he asked, and Laurind smiled.  
  
"Ah, I'm afraid that it would be best not to tell you." she said.  Gil-galad arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Who was he before he died?" Gil-galad asked again, but this time he put his strength behind the question.  There could be no mistaking it this time; the question was a royal command.  Laurind hesitated for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not she should obey, but then – she told him.  
  
---  
  
"M'lady, that was most improper to send us out like that!" Laurind's maids were back, the High King having just left, and were wasting no time in telling Laurind what all the ladies of court would suppose had been going on in her chambers when she had been alone with the High King.  Of course, the ladies would only find out about it through gossip, and that gossip would come from none other than Laurind's maids.  It was a fact of court that most of the gossip was spread through maids and servants, and thus Laurind was more amused by the maids' scolding than anything else.  
  
"Especially with you in your dressing gown like that." another maid put in as she pulled a newly-made dress out of the wardrobe, and Laurind submitted herself to the maids' ministrations as they got her ready for her first true day in the court.  Except they didn't get far – they only got her into her dress – before there was another knock on the door.  It was still rather early for visitors, so one of the maids immediately volunteered to go tell whoever it was that Laurind was asleep and would not be disturbed, but Laurind stopped her, already knowing who was beyond the door.  
  
"Come in!" she called, stepping into the sitting room and pulling her hair back in a rough ponytail, once again horrifying her maids.  
  
"My lady." Belldaug said as he entered, bowing slightly.  Laurind replied with a curtsey that was just marginally deeper than Belldaug's bow.  
  
"My Lord Belldaug." Laurind said with a smile. "What may I do for you?"  
  
"I was hoping I might...talk to you." Belldaug said hesitantly.  
  
"If you can stand to be in the same room as me long enough to get anything said, I'd be glad to talk with you." Laurind replied with a smile, having been told by Thranduil the night before about Belldaug's reluctance to be anywhere near her.  
  
"Even had my desire to flee at the sight of you not dissipated, I would hold it in check long enough for this conversation." Belldaug replied dryly.  Laurind arched an eyebrow, and, sensing what was coming, turned to her bedroom door to find that, once again, her maids were watching and listening from the partially open door.  
  
"Leave us." she ordered.  The maids immediately protested. "_Ego!_" Laurind repeated loudly, and the maids quieted and left the room.  Belldaug shot a curious look at Laurind as the last maid left the room. "Sometimes it is better to have ones reputation slandered than to let possibly important information make its way to the court." Laurind explained as she sat, motioning for Belldaug to take a seat as well.  
  
"A wise piece of advice." Balldaug said, sitting in the same chair Gil-galad had earlier. "Though what makes you think that what I have to say might possibly be important information?" Laurind considered Belldaug for a moment, and then gave a mysterious smile.  
  
"Nothing." she said. "However, the way my morning is going, it most likely is."  Belldaug arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Been having an interesting morning?" he asked.  
  
"If you call being woken up because the High King wants to speak with you NOW interesting, yes." Laurind replied with a sigh. "But I doubt you came here to discuss the High King."  
  
"No." Belldaug said, and then frowned lightly. "Actually, that's not entirely true.  The High King is part of what I wish to discuss, but definitely not all of it." Laurind paused a moment, then nodded, mentally readying herself for whatever Belldaug might come up with.  For awhile, he came up with nothing, simply frowning lightly at the carpet right in from of Laurind's feet, obviously thinking.  Eventually, however, he did speak.  
  
"I'm coming to you with this because my instincts are telling me that you are the only one who could explain this to me, though my head is saying it might be wiser to go to the healers." he said, and Laurind snorted, having recalled how the healers were behaving the day before.  Belldaug glanced at Laurind in amusement. "Even though past experiences might say otherwise." he said. "The fact is, however, that what I wish to talk about is so...odd, that I'm more inclined to trust my instincts on it."  
  
"Well then, get to it, and stop beating around the bush." Laurind said with amusement. "I don't bite.  Hard." Belldaug gave Laurind a not-amused look.  
  
"Very well then.  Do you, possibly, know why, when I was being questioned by the High King last night as to my behavior yesterday – which, by the way, I also wish to ask you about – I kept getting mental images of him, much younger, covered in mud and looking extremely contrite?" Belldaug said, looking intently at Laurind.  Laurind laughed lightly as that description brought up the memory a very muddy, very sheepish Ereinion being brought back to her on one of the few occasions when he had managed to escape.  Belldaug looked rather affronted at Laurind's laughter, however, so she quickly suppressed it, grinning instead.  
  
"I apologize.  That brings back some memories." she said.  
  
"So you do know why I kept seeing that image?" Belldaug asked, tilting his head to one side.  
  
"Of course I do." Laurind replied, still grinning.  There was a moment of silence, as Belldaug stared expectantly at Laurind, who was completely ignoring the expectant look as she fondly recalled the other time her errant charge had been brought back to her – over the shoulder of Círdan, that time, who had been as covered in mud as Ereinion.  The explanation for THAT had been rather amusing.  
  
"Well?" Belldaug finally asked, impatience in his voice, and Laurind looked over at him in surprise. "Why did I keep seeing that image?"  
  
"Now, telling you would spoil the surprise." Laurind replied with a serene smile.  Belldaug's face darkened.  
  
"I do notcare if it will spoil the 'surprise'.  I wish to know." he practically growled.  Laurind tilted her head to one side, her smile and humour gone, replaced with a steady, serious look that reminded Belldaug vaguely of Gil-galad when he was holding Council.   
  
"We do not always get what we wish." Laurind said solemnly. "I cannot tell you why you saw the High King as a young child anymore than I can tell you why you ran away yesterday or why you have tried to run from me on every occasion before now.  I wish I could; but the risk is too great."  
  
"Risk?  What type of risk?" Belldaug asked with a frown.  
  
"If I could tell you that, there wouldn't be a risk." Laurind with a sad little smile. "I cannot explain these things to you, Belldaug.  You are free to find out about them by yourself, but I cannot tell you." Belldaug looked at Laurind for a moment with an unreadable expression on his face.  
  
"Very well." he said finally, then stood and bowed lightly to Laurind. "I will see you later, Lady Nîdae."  
  
"Laurind." Laurind corrected, and Belldaug's attention was immediately riveted on her, a look of surprise on his face.  
  
"What?" he asked quietly.  
  
"My name's Laurind.  Not Nîdae.  Nîdae was just the name Gil-galad gave me." Laurind explained patiently.  Belldaug look at her for a few moments more, and then nodded curtly.  
  
"Farewell, my Lady." he said, and quickly left the room.  Laurind followed him to the door and watched his retreating back with a sigh.  
  
"What I wouldn't give to be able to tell him." she muttered to herself, then started as she heard someone clear their throat.  She turned to the source, expecting to find her maids, but instead, found herself face-to-face with Prince Thranduil.  Laurind smiled – the quality of early morning visitors was definitely improving.  
  
"Good morning, Prince Thranduil!" she said cheerfully.  Thranduil arched an eyebrow, and his gaze flicked to the hallway Belldaug had just disappeared down, a strange expression flitting across his face before he returned his attention to Laurind, a smile in place.  
  
"I believe I asked you last night at dinner to dispense with titles?" he said.  
  
"Indeed you did." Laurind said, her smile growing into a grin, and then she stepped back from the door, leaving room for Thranduil to enter. "Please, come in!" Thranduil shook his head, giving Laurind an apologetic smile.  
  
"I'm afraid the Council is meeting this morning, and I need to look up some things in the High King's library before I get there.  I just wanted to ask if everything was alright – you disappeared rather quickly last night." he said, and then glanced once again down the hallway Belldaug had taken. "I see things are, if anything, better than before, however."  
  
"What?  Oh, yes, Belldaug returned last night." Laurind said with a smile, and Thranduil nodded.  
  
"Very well then.  I had best be off." and with that, the Silvan Prince turned and strode off, following Belldaug's earlier path.  Laurind stared after him with a light frown.  
  
"Well that was strange." she muttered, then glanced around. "Where ARE my maids?" When no answer was forth-coming after several minutes of standing in the doorway, Laurind shrugged, and then returned to her room to do her hair herself.  Her maids were probably off gossiping about Laurind's strange early-morning visits – though truth to tell, the only one really worthy of gossip was Thranduil's.  What in Arda had he been so on edge about...?  
  
---  
  
"Belldaug!" The familiar voice came from behind Belldaug, and he immediately stopped and turned to face his friend, hiding his confusion and frustration behind a smile, which Thranduil returned as he drew even with Belldaug.  Neither noticed that the other's smile was forced, and they continued walking down the corridor.  
  
"So you have finally returned." Thranduil said, and Belldaug nodded. "Where did you run off to?"  
  
"I couldn't say." Belldaug said, letting his confusion show for a moment. "It's all rather a blur from when I left the healing hall until the palace guards escorted me into the High King's study.  Then I got to spend half the night being grilled by him about where I'd been."  
  
"So did you get any sleep?" Thranduil asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"No." Belldaug replied truthfully.  His mind had been too busy running around in circles, trying to figure out what had happened, for him to get any sleep – and now his mind was starting to go in those circles again, causing him to be completely oblivious to how Thranduil suddenly tensed.  
  
"Pity.  There's a Council session later this morning, and the annual discussion about the defense of the Elven Kingdoms is scheduled to be discussed.  One would think that you would wish to be alert for it." the Silvan Prince said.  Belldaug chuckled.  
  
"It takes more than one night of lost sleep to make me lose my alertness." he said. "I only slept one night on the trip here from Valinor, and I was none the worse for the wear on the other end."  
  
"Mm." was Thranduil's response.  Then, as the two came to an intersection of hallways, Thranduil stopped, turned to Belldaug, and bowed slightly. "Well, if you will excuse me, not all of us have your innate knowledge of tactics and strategy.  There are some things I must look up in the library."  
  
"Do you want some help?" Belldaug asked, but Thranduil shook his head.  
  
"I would prefer to find the information myself.  Thank you for the offer, however." he said, and then headed off to the right at such a quick pace that he was out of sight and hearing range before Belldaug remembered that the library was to the left.  Belldaug frowned slightly, glancing from left to right.  
  
"That was strange." he muttered finally, then resumed walking.

* * *

Translations:  
_'Ego!'_ – Go away! (Sindarin) [A/N: I couldn't find Sindarin for 'leave' or 'go'.]  
  



	7. Fastforward to the Interesting Stuff

** The House of the Golden Flower **

  
  
Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to.  The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Nîdae/Laurind.  The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien – or, more specifically, his estate.  No copyright infringement is intended.  (So please don't sue.)  
  
Author's Note:  
Ai, my apologies for the long time between updates. As some of you may or may not know, the movie version of _'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban'_ came out recently, and I made the huge mistake of going to see it. And somehow, despite the fact that in every previous role that I've seen him in, I've intensely disliked the actor who played Remus Lupin, I developed a strong liking for him in this particular film. So the past little while I've been hunting down good Harry Potter FanFics - which are few, far between, and very hard to find - and reading them almost non-stop...I guess you could say Remus Lupin kidnapped me? _[amused smile]_ But Thranduil and Glorfindel eventually kidnapped me back, with some help from a few of my favourite LotR FanFics that recently updated. Now I just have to resist writing a Remus FanFiction for long enough, and I should be able to get this finished...  
  
On that note, thanks for everybody who's stuck around, and for everybody who reviewed the last chapter! You're wonderful people, all of you. _[hands out buttons with random LotR characters on them] [halts when handing a button out] [peers at button]_ Hey, how did Ralph get on the buttons? _[heads off to find Ralph the Elvish Hair Stylist and get an explanation]_  
  
Chapter 7: Fast-forward to the Interesting Stuff  
The year 3351 of the Second Age  
  
"I don't get it." Laurind said to Gil-galad, frowning slightly as she watched Thranduil and Belldaug brush by each other during a dance, not even acknowledging each others existence.  
  
"Really?" Gil-galad said, arching an eyebrow, but Laurind had to wait to reply, as a complicated part of the dance requiring all her attention had come up.  The High King and Laurind were currently dancing, Gil-galad having recently snatched Laurind away from Thranduil, who had recently stolen her from Belldaug, who had stolen her only moments before from Thranduil, who had stolen her just before that from Belldaug, and so on and so forth - Laurind couldn't even remember which of the two had originally asked her to dance.  Which was why Gil-galad had neatly cut in – though Laurind had still kept her attention focused on her former dance partners.  
  
"No, I do not get it." Laurind repeated when she finally had the concentration to spare for a conversation with the High King. "One day they were friends, and almost overnight they seemed to become enemies."  Gil-galad gave Laurind an amused look.  
  
"You mean the great Lady Laurind of Gondolin honestly cannot see what is going on?" he asked.  
  
"If I did, don't you think I would have done something about it over the past six months?" Laurind asked with annoyance. "It is not fun having the two elves one knows the best at each others throats."  
  
"Actually, Prince Thranduil is the only one at anyone's throat." Gil-galad corrected. "Belldaug is acting purely on reflex, from what I have seen.  He's more confused by Thranduil than angry with him.  But then, Belldaug seems confused in general these days." Gil-galad and Laurind shared an amused look.  Belldaug had been remembering more and more about his past as time went on, yet he hadn't yet seemed to have figured out what was going on, let alone who he had used to be.  They both found this extremely amusing, considering how bright he usually was.  
  
"Very well, since you know so much, why is Thranduil at Belldaug's throat?" Laurind asked after a moment, but was obliged to wait for a reply, as another part of the dance requiring full concentration had arrived.  When they were able to converse once more, however, Gil-galad remained silent, seemingly thinking.  Laurind purposely stepped on his foot.  
  
"I am a fair painter, you know, and I'm sure many of the nobles here would love to see a painting or two of you as a child." she said pointedly.  Gil-galad cringed.  
  
"I honestly cannot believe you haven't recognized it yourself." he said with a sigh. "It's rather obvious.  Prince Thranduil is jealous."  
  
"Jealous?" Laurind asked, blinking. "Of what?  Or who?"  
  
"Jealous of Belldaug, of course." Gil-galad replied promptly.  Laurind blinked again, almost failing to notice the end of the dance.  
  
"Why?" Laurind asked as she quickly halted her movements.  
  
"That," Gil-galad replied, bowing slightly to Laurind, who replied with a curtsey, "You can figure out yourself." And then, with a cheerful wave and smile, the High King disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor, and moments later was dancing around with a new partner.  Laurind, feeling distinctly confused and wanting to think, stepped off the dance floor, turning down several lords who asked her for a dance, then made her way out of the hall and through the palace and it's gardens until she came to the private garden she had shown Thranduil that first night after she had 'awakened', as she'd come to call it.  
  
"Jealous..." she muttered to herself as she sat down by one of the flower beds and thought as she looked at the flowers with a gaze so intense that lesser flowers would have wilted.  She thought back as far as she could, trying to remember when this had all started, and concluded that it had been shortly after she had recovered from her grief – and Belldaug began remembering.  
  
Laurind frowned, trying to think of anything that happened around that time that could have caused Thranduil to become jealous of Belldaug.  She came up blank, however, and with a scowl, picked one of the flowers and began methodically tearing all the leaves and petals off of it until all that was left was the stem and the center of the flower.  No inspiration had come during the destruction of the flower, however, so Laurind picked another one.  
  
There was a good-sized puddle of golden petals around Laurind, and a large gap in the flower bed, before Laurind decided that this was getting nowhere.  With a sigh, she stood, brushing petals off of her dress, then ambled back to her room.  Being somewhat distracted by her thoughts, after she entered her rooms, it took a moment to register that they were empty – all her maids were apparently out.  Well, she had ordered them to go take the night off, after all.  Maids were handy, but she found that she either became annoyed with them, or took them too much for granted if they were around her non-stop for long periods of time.  
  
There were also some advantages to having no maids around, Laurind realized as she draped herself over one of the chairs in a position that was by no means appropriate for a lady and no maids began gasping and looking at her in scandalized horror.  The silence was peaceful, and for a moment, Laurind had a childish impulse to strip down to her shift and wander around her apartments in that – she was, however, entirely too comfortable to bother moving, and thus the impulse was squashed as Laurind turned her thoughts back to the puzzle at hand.  
  
For awhile, it seemed as if her rooms would be no more conductive to finding the answer than the gardens had been, but suddenly pieces began to slide into place in her mind, as she recalled the first time she had found herself entirely alone in her apartments, with nary a maid to be seen.  She had kicked them out to have a private talk with Belldaug, and as they had informed her later, had decided to go to the kitchens – to gossip, undoubtedly – until either she called for them or it was lunch time.  Belldaug had left, then Thranduil had shown up, and after acting rather oddly, had left, leaving Laurind to her empty rooms.  
  
Laurind realized with a start what had happened.  Thranduil had seen Belldaug leave Laurind's rooms, and had seen when she'd invited him in that her maids were not there.  The hour was barely acceptable for visitors – only those on urgent errands, or couples who were so ridiculously in love that they couldn't get enough of each other would have been out visiting.  Which led to two very obvious conclusions – Thranduil was rather interested in Laurind in a romantic sense (he _hah_ been up and visiting her at that hour without any real reason, after all) and had assumed, when he saw Belldaug leave, that Belldaug had the same interest in Laurind.  Laurind closed her eyes and groaned at the realization.  The explanation fit perfectly.  
  
"Well, we shall have to deal with this." Laurind said to her empty rooms, opening her eyes.  She nodded emphatically to herself, and then hoisted herself out of the chair.  She glanced outside, wondering if the dance was still on, but then noticed that the moon was just setting - and it had just barely risen when she'd gone out to the gardens.  The dance was most definitely over.  Laurind pondered what to do for a moment, but suddenly found her thoughts interrupted as her door flew open.  She whirled in surprise, suddenly glad that she hadn't succumbed to the impulse to strip down to her shift and wander around in that.  She barely got much farther along in her thoughts than that, however, when she found herself standing on her very tiptoes, having been hauled up onto them by Belldaug, who had hold of her upper arms.  Darn his tallness.  
  
"I'm reborn, aren't I?" he asked harshly.  Laurind, stunned, nodded.  Belldaug growled, letting go of her arms, and took a step back as Laurind smoothed her dress out, trying to calm her pounding heart.  
  
"I suppose you know who I once was?" he asked.  
  
"Yes." Laurind said.  
  
"But let me guess - you will not tell me." Belldaug muttered, and Laurind nodded.  
  
"Things like this are best for you to discover for yourself." she said softly.  Belldaug nodded curtly, and then stormed out of her room.  Laurind cautiously followed him to the door and watched him head off down the hallway, wondering what on Arda had made him realize what was going on.  Carefully, she stretched out towards Belldaug's mind, and was met with the mental image of a Balrog towering high above her, an Elvish sword buried to the hilt in its chest, looking about one step away from falling on top of her.  
  
Laurind wrenched her mind away from Belldaug's with a cry, and fell to her knees, shuddering and taking deep, gasping breaths, tears slowly making their way down her cheek.  She knew exactly what she'd seen - the same thing Glorfindel had in the last moments of his life.  It would not be long now before Belldaug remembered.  
  
---  
  
If Thranduil was annoyed at being woken early the next morning after the late night he'd had, he quickly suppressed his annoyance in favour of surprise when he opened his door.  
  
"Laurind?" he asked, and promptly found himself being hugged by the named _elleth_.  Surprised, Thranduil instinctively wrapped his arms around the maiden, and simply stood there for a moment, holding her, until he suddenly became aware that he was standing in his doorway in nothing but his trousers holding a high-ranking Lady of the court.  Thranduil glanced around Laurind, up and down the hallway, but saw no one, and so, since he had dismissed his servants last night before going to the dance, as he usually did, Thranduil drew back and led Laurind into his room, shutting the door with his foot.  
  
Laurind did not seem to want to let go of Thranduil, however, so even though he managed to get her far enough into his room to shut the door, the Prince found himself having some trouble moving any farther into the room.  He paused as he held Laurind once more, wondering what to do, when he suddenly became aware of a warm wetness on his chest.  Thranduil reached behind him and locked his door, then picked Laurind up and carried her over to the couch, the maiden all the while keeping her face hidden against either his neck or chest.  
  
"Laurind?" Thranduil asked softly as he sat on the couch, Laurind in his lap.  He tried to get a look at he face, but she was stubbornly keeping it buried in his neck, hanging onto him as if he was her last link to life.  Thranduil, bewildered by this turn events, decided to simply wait until she was ready to tell him what was wrong, and held her closer, humming a lullaby his mother had used to sing to him deep in his throat.  He noticed as he did so that Laurind was wearing the same dress that she had last night at the dance – apparently she either hadn't gone to bed, or had been in such a rush that she'd thrown on the first piece of clothing that came to hand.  
  
After a time, Laurind visibly relaxed, and the wetness against Thranduil's neck dried.  Thranduil, not wanting her to fall asleep, stopped humming and shifted slightly.  This achieved the desired result, as Laurind lifted her head to look at Thranduil.  Her eyes were red from crying, but somehow, it only made her eyes look more beautiful, and when her tussled hair was added into the equation, Thranduil had to swallow and use some of his well-trained self-control to stop himself from leaning in and kissing her passionately.  
  
"Did I wake you?" Laurind asked somewhat sheepishly.  
  
"Not that I care, but yes, you did." Thranduil replied, arching an eyebrow. "What's wrong?" Laurind hesitated for a moment, and then gave him a truly sheepish look.  
  
"It's...rather silly, but I had a nightmare." she said.  
  
"What about?" Thranduil asked as Laurind laid her head back down on his shoulder.  Laurind was silent for a time, and Thranduil wondered if she was going to answer.  
  
"I dreamed that Balrogs were attacking.  They were killing everyone." Laurind said softly after a moment. "No one could escape them.  And then they reached the palace, and..." Laurind cut off with a shudder, and Thranduil tightened his hold on her. Her next words were so quiet, Thranduil could barely hear them. "I've already seen him die once.  Seeing him die again..." Laurind swallowed audibly.  
  
"Who?" Thranduil asked, after a quick, ferocious inner debate over whether or not he wanted to know.  
  
"Glorfindel." Laurind answered.  Thranduil blinked - that had _not_ been the name he had expected to come out of her mouth.  
  
"What?" he asked somewhat stupidly, almost reflexively.  There was a moment's silence, as if Laurind was considering something, and then she lifted her head to look Thranduil in the eye, resting a hand on the Prince's bare chest.  
  
"Glorfindel.  My brother.  My twin brother, to be precise." she said softly. "Who is now known as Belldaug." Thranduil stared at Laurind in utter confusion for a moment, his mind refusing to connect what she'd said to reality.  Then, slowly, the gears in his head turned, and he smiled.  He was surprised to find the smile echoed by Laurind.  
  
"You are rather slow sometimes, aren't you?" she asked teasingly.  Thranduil's smile faded a bit, but that was all, as he found he couldn't bring himself to summon even a fake scowl.  So Laurind and Thranduil simply smiled at each other for a moment, and then Laurind looked over Thranduil's shoulder, a far away look entering her eyes as her smile fell.  
  
"I suppose it wouldn't have been that bad to see him die again - I've had a dream about him dying at least once a year since it happened, anyways - but the Balrogs seemed so real, and they weren't attacking Gondolin this time.  They were here, in Lindon.  And they were killing _everyone_ - Cúmehtar, my maids, the healers, Gil-galad...you.  It was worse than Gondolin, because it was Gondolin all over again, only without the escape passage." Laurind's voice had gone strangely emotionless, and Thranduil looked at her in concern, but remained quiet, suspecting that whatever Laurind was going to say next would be important in some way.  
  
"All but three of the guards of the House of the Golden Flower and me died in the attack on Gondolin, did you know that?  Those three guards were the only reason I stayed sane after Glorfindel died.  Idril and Tuor were strong, but some of the refugees still had doubts about following a Man, and my guards saw this.  They encouraged me to take Glorfindel's place as an Elvish leader who the refugees had no reason not to trust.  
  
"It was hard, at first - I felt as if I would never be able to live again, never be able to smile.  Like I would forever live half a life without my twin.  But Carnildo, Árasúrë and Analt understood – Analt had lost his own twin during _Nirnaeth Arnoediad_ – and they supported me, gave me strength, as fellow House members are supposed to.  They always had something for me to do, even if it was just playing with Eärendil.  They kept me from falling into my grief, and in a strange way, they became three substitutes for Glorfindel." A small smile ghosted across Laurind's face. "That should stoke his ego - it took three guards to make up for his loss." Thranduil made a noise of amused agreement before Laurind continued.  
  
"Then...the sons of Fëanor came." Laurind's face darkened. "I watched as Carnildo, Árasúrë and Analto were cut down.  Watched as their attackers turned from their bodies without a second thought - turned towards me.  But I ran.  I woke later in the day, not remembering when I'd fallen asleep, or why I was away from my home.  And then I returned, and I remembered.  In shock and filled with disbelief, I wandered the ruins that those _yrch_ had  left until I walked into one of Gil-galad's sentries, and shortly after that, I realized that I was now truly alone, and succumbed to the grief that Carnildo, Árasúrë and Analto had held me from when Glorfindel died." Laurind returned her attention to Thranduil, who was listening intently.  
  
"I believe you know the rest of the story." she said dryly, and Thranduil nodded, suspecting that he was the first Elf to know both the beginning _and_ end of this particular story.  There was silence for a moment as Thranduil pondered this, and then he realized something, and tilted his head to one side before raising a hand to cup one of Laurind's cheeks.  She leaned into the touch, her eyes closing slightly, and Thranduil smiled slightly, the realization that he didn't have competitor for Laurind's affections sinking in all over again.  
  
"So I suppose this explains why Belldaug felt the need to stay away from you originally." Thranduil mused, and Laurind's eyes flew open, looking at him curiously.  
  
"What does?" she asked.  
  
"He died fighting a Balrog.  Which, I suspect, he would not, like every good sibling, want his twin sister to come up against.  The last emotion he felt towards you obviously carried over through death and rebirth." Thranduil replied sensibly, and Laurind nodded, realization dawning in her eyes.  
  
"I'd never thought of that." she mused after a moment.  Thranduil opened his mouth to reply, but there was a sudden rattling at his door.  He glanced over at it with annoyance, then heard the surprised exclamations of one of his guards and several of his servants on the other side, one of which had apparently just tried the door and found it locked.  Laurind and Thranduil looked at each other.  
  
"You should probably get a tunic on." Laurind observed after a moment, as the voices on the other side of the door became more urgent, and someone started banging on the door, calling for Thranduil.  
  
"Oh, but everyone knows that we Wood Elves are barbarians with no sense of propriety." Thranduil said, suddenly grinning mischievously.  Laurind arched an eyebrow at Thranduil.  She could see a plan forming in his head, and suspected that she knew what he was going to do.  Now that he knew Belldaug was not going to try and steal Laurind away from him, Thranduil was most likely going to turn his charm on full blast, as well as dredging up every drop of romanticism that was in him – which, according to many court ladies, added up to quite a lot in any Wood Elf.  And if there was one thing most court ladies seemed to agree on as being romantic, it was spontaneously taking off for a day filled with no one but you and your significant other.  Never mind how many duties you neglected while doing so.  
  
"Isn't there a Council meeting today?" Laurind asked to test her theory, and Thranduil pondered for a moment.  
  
"Not anymore." he replied finally, his mischievous grin returning. "At least, not for me."  Laurind eyed Thranduil for a moment, inwardly amused that she had guessed correctly, and then smiled lightly and shrugged.  Thranduil took that as silent permission to carry on, and picked Laurind up, throwing her over his shoulder.  
  
"Be a dear and put up a bit of a fuss." Thranduil told Laurind quietly, and Laurind, with a chuckle, obliged, letting out a screech and demanding that Thranduil let her down this instant, continuing along that vein in righteous indignation as Thranduil strode over to the door, where the banging stopped with surprised abruptness.  Laurind quieted somewhat as Thranduil reached the door, settling on kicking her feet and trying to twist off Thranduil's shoulder instead - all the time making sure that he wouldn't actually lose his grip on her - and she actually managed to get a good glare around him at the stunned servants and guard standing on the other side of the door just after Thranduil opened it.  
  
"I'm a little busy at the moment." Thranduil told the stunned Elves calmly. "Kindly return in an hour or so." And with that, Thranduil shut the door again and locked it.  Laurind immediately set to screeching again and demanding to be let down as Thranduil carried her off into his room and out of hearing from the door.  Thranduil set her down on the bed, and Laurind immediately curled into a ball, clutching her stomach, as her screeches turned into laughter.  
  
"Ah!  The looks on their faces!" she giggled awhile later after she'd calmed down somewhat.  
  
"Yes, they were quite amusing.  However, they will probably have gone to fetch Gil-galad by now." Thranduil said, looking down at Laurind with amusement.  She looked up at him and blinked in surprise.  
  
"Hey, when did you find a tunic?"  
  
"While you were laughing."  
  
"Oh." Thranduil chose to ignore the disappointment he saw flicker across Laurind's face at the discovery that he'd put on a tunic, instead taking her hand and pulling her up off the bed and onto her feet.  
  
"So, what now?" Laurind asked.  
  
"We go out the window." Thranduil replied promptly.  
  
"And then...?" Laurind asked, arching her eyebrow again.  
  
"Kitchens.  Then the stables.  Then as far away as we can get.  All as quickly as possible." Thranduil replied with a grin, then gave Laurind a very serious, questioning look, clearly asking her if she was all right with that plan.  In response, Laurind grinned back at him.  
  
"Sounds good to me.  I haven't actually _seen_ much of Lindon in all the time I've been here." she said, then frowned. "I'll have to borrow someone's horse, though.  I don't have one of my own."  
  
"I don't think the High King is going outside the palace today." Thranduil mused, and Laurind grinned again.  
  
"Perfect.  Let's go." she said, and they made a beeline for the window in the sitting room.  
  
Translations:  
_'elleth'_ – Female elf (Sindarin)  
_'yrch'_ - Orcs (Sindarin)  
  



	8. Water Fights, Staring Contests, Clouds a...

** The House of the Golden Flower **

Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Nîdae/Laurind. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien – or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)

Author's Note:  
Yes, I've been bad. It's been what, five months since I updated? I apologize. I lost interest in 'Lord of the Rings' (gasp, shock, horror!) and thus, in writing fanfictions on it. But then, one bored bored evening, I decided to re-read 'The Games of the Gods', which led to the re-reading of this story, and shortly after that, I went on vacation and…next thing I knew, I was thinking of where to go in this story and wishing I had what I had already written of this chapter with me so that I could write on it. But alas, I didn't, and so I had to wait until I got home.

But here I am, with a shiney new chapter, which is dedicated to any Slash fans out there. Not because there's slash in it. Well, depending on how you look at it. We'll just call it tribute to my brief, disturbing LotR slash period. (which stopped after a really really weird dream)

Anywho, the next update probably won't be until mid-December. Sorry, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. I have a 50,000-word novel to finish by the end of November, I'm 9 sections behind in physics, I'm on chapter 3 of a book that I was supposed to have finished in October, and I have all of season 2 of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ (which I've been waiting for for almost a year) sitting around needing to be watched in one week. So, I'm a little busy. I actually shouldn't have even tried to finish this chapter before the end of the month, but...well, writing should be labelled as an incurable addiction.

Chapter 8: Water Fights, Staring Contests, Clouds and a Siege

After getting out of the city, Laurind and Thranduil – both effectively being new to the area – had absolutely no idea where to go, so they looked for the closest tree and went in the direction the lowest branch was pointing. After having a short, playful argument over whether the direction the base of the branch or the tip was pointing was where they should go, as it was a rather 'artistic' branch, as Thranduil put it.

The branch had been generally pointing north, however, so that was, in the end, the way they went. They soon became glad that the branch had pointing in this direction, as it led to fields of wild grasses and flowers, with copses of trees scattered around – mainly along the bank of a small stream that cut through the fields. A small copse of trees on the bank of that stream ended out being where Laurind and Thranduil stopped for lunch…and for most of the afternoon, really, as while they were eating, they decided that they quite liked this particular batch of trees.

Furthermore, Laurind decided that she liked this section of the stream, which was slow-moving and warm, and decided to hike up her dress and wander around in the stream while trying to find interesting rocks in it. Thranduil couldn't work up the willpower to suggest they leave – even when Laurind accidentally dropped the edge of her skirt in the water, and then decided that Thranduil was entirely too dry. Thus followed a water fight which would have scandalized anyone back in the Lindon court…and most of the wood elves, Thranduil mused as he and Laurind lay on rocks 'drying out' afterwards. Of course, most of the wood elves would be absolutely horrified that Thranduil had gone off for a day alone with a Noldorin Lady, period.

"What _are_you thinking about?" Laurind asked curiously as she looked over at Thranduil and found him grinning.

"How my father's court would be utterly horrified that I was out for the day with a Noldorin Lady." he said with a chuckle.

"Oh?" Laurind asked. "Do they truly dislike the Noldorin that much?" Thranduil nodded.

"They haven't since Gil-galad tried to suggest that they do something that was for their own good." he said. "I was too young to be involved in court politics at the time, but I have heard tales of it. The Silvan elves make it out that Gil-galad ordered them, and the Noldorins make out that Gil-galad merely suggested a course of action. I believe it was probably, in reality, only a request."

"It was." Laurind mused. "Now that I think on it, I recall that I had wandered into Gil-galad's study when he was composing that letter."

"He let you wander in?" Thranduil asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I have had complete freedom to roam anywhere in the palace since the year after Gil-galad found me, barring personal quarters." Laurind replied with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

"How interesting. And full of opportunities." Thranduil said.

"Yes, if only I had been in the state of mind to use it to my advantage, I might have had quite the time." Laurind said, smiling fondly, and then turned to Thranduil with a mischievous grin. "And anyways, if anyone of your father's court finds out you spent the day out here with me, and protests, feel free to point out that I am Vanyar, not Noldor." Thranduil chuckled.

"A fine difference, there." he said.

"But still a difference!" Laurind declared.

"You sound extremely proud of that." Thranduil commented.

"I have been ever since the Crossing." Laurind said tightly. Thranduil, recalling his history lessons, wisely decided not to inquire further as to why.

Most of the rest of the afternoon was spent wandering around that particular copse of trees, until finally, Thranduil and Laurind realized that they needed to head back to the palace if they were to return before darkness fell. So they fetched their horses from where they had been dozing in the sun right outside the trees and headed back.

Laurind and Thranduil were, of course, not stupid enough to think that there wouldn't be anyone waiting for them when they returned to the palace around suppertime. After all, Thranduil, the Crown Prince of the Greenwood, had just skipped out on a Council meeting, and Laurind was riding the High King's warhorse. However, they were not quite expecting the combination of people that was awaiting them when they returned. But then, it would have been hard to, considering that Elrond hadn't even been in the city there when Laurind and Thranduil had left. The fact that it was only Elrond and Gil-galad, however, was somewhat worrying – especially when, for several minutes after Laurind and Thranduil rode up to them and dismounted, the duo only frowned at them very disapprovingly.

"You two need romantic female influences." Thranduil finally said with a shake of his head, breaking the silence, then turned and took the reins of the High King's horse from Laurind with a courteous smile and led both horses off to the stables. It didn't occur to Laurind until after Thranduil had disappeared into the stables that he had effectively escaped and left her alone with Gil-galad and Elrond. Laurind scowled after him. And the day had been going so well.

"May I ask what possessed you to take MY horse?" Gil-galad asked irritably, bringing Laurind's attention back to the two in front of her.

"I didn't have a horse and you were the only one that Thranduil knew wouldn't be using your horse today." Laurind said with a shrug, and then smiled. "Besides, I like your horse." Gil-galad let out a very un-kingly snort.

"Of course." he said. "And may I also ask what possessed you two to take off for the day without any warning?"

"I opened Thranduil's eyes." Laurind replied meaningfully as Thranduil appeared in the direction of the stables. Gil-galad arched an eyebrow.

"Ah, yet more evidence that you are selectively intelligent." he replied scathingly.

"Does he really love his horse or something?" Laurind asked, turning to Elrond. Elrond's lips twitched, but he said nothing as Gil-galad shot him a warning glare. The glare lost the warning aspect and gained a peeved one as it turned to Laurind and Thranduil.

"I do hope you're both pleased with yourselves, and have gotten your fill of each other." the High King said. "Because the Council is leaving tomorrow morning – we would have left this afternoon if not for you two – along with half the army that is stationed here to go tend to a siege that has begun on our eastern border." Thranduil immediately went stock still, and a look of guilt flashed across his face. Laurind snorted.

"So that's what this is about." she said, then suddenly marched up to Gil-galad in a way very similar to how she had when she'd been reaming the High King out when she had been watching him as a child, and Gil-galad instinctively hunched his shoulders and shrunk in on himself, much to his chagrin. "We could not have predicted that some mysterious siege on the eastern border would be mounted today, and you know it. You are a King. You are THE High King of the Noldor. You should not go around blaming things on hapless people who had nothing to do with said things simply because these people were having a good time while you were receiving news you did not like." Gil-galad, who at first had drooped under Laurind's tirade, began straightening at her reminder that he was a King, and by the time she'd finished, he was returning her fierce look with equal strength.

"I've been thinking the same thing since he decided you two were at fault." Belldaug's voice came from the doorway the High King and the all-but-forgotten Elrond were standing in front of.

"Belldaug!" Thranduil greeted warmly, causing everyone except Laurind and Gil-galad to blink in surprise. Laurind and Gil-galad were too busy trying to stare each other down.

"I have got five thousand years on you, Gil-galad, you cannot win." Laurind said after a time.

"As you so astutely pointed out, I am the High King of the Noldor. I WILL win." Gil-galad replied, his gaze never wavering. "Besides, you spent the last three millennia consumed by grief. You're out of practice." There was a funny sound from Elrond's direction as he, and the other two watching, realized that what had started as an angry stare-down had become a staring contest.

"What is it with you two and staring contests?" Belldaug asked rhetorically. "You get into any little argument, and next thing one knows, you're both locked in a staring contest. Granted, it _was_ amusing when Gil-galad was about 10 years old to see you two having a staring contest, especially when he won…" All heads turned towards Belldaug, even Laurind and Gil-galad's. Elrond frowned. Belldaug returned the frown, looking somewhat puzzled.

"I'll have you know that you started it." Laurind said. Belldaug blinked and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Oh. Right." he said suddenly. There was a pause. "It _did _look like a pumpkin."

"It was clearly a _squash_! Anyone could have seen that!" Laurind retorted.

"Then why did it look like a pumpkin to me?" Belldaug replied with slight annoyance.

"Because you're mentally deranged." Laurind replied. "Any brains you have come from me."

"Oh really?" Belldaug arched an eyebrow. "What's the difference between a mace and a flail?"

"One does the whirly thing and the other…doesn't." Laurind replied vaguely, waving her hand through the air. Belldaug smirked.

"A flail has a chain, is sharp, and is ball-shaped at the end." he said.

"Exactly as I said." Laurind replied.

"Excuse me, but what looked like a squash?" Thranduil piped up.

"It was a pumpkin!" Belldaug said indignantly.

"It was a bloody cloud." Laurind replied, rolling her eyes. Belldaug paused, and then nodded.

"That it was." he said. Silence fell on the group for a moment.

"I am going to regret admitting this – but I am so confused." Elrond said finally with a sigh.

"Belldaug's reborn, I knew him the last time he was alive." Laurind explained simply. Gil-galad and Thranduil snorted, and Laurind looked at them in annoyance.

"'Knew'?" Gil-galad asked, arching an eyebrow. "As I recall, you two were so close you even passed your preference for romantic partners onto him. Much to the dismay of Turgon, every mildly attractive male in Gondolin, and all the females of the same region." Laurind's cheeks reddened.

"There was never any proof that I had anything to do with that." she mumbled. "And besides, I think being reborn changed that."

"Nope." Belldaug said mildly. All heads snapped towards him, and Thranduil edged himself closer to Laurind.

"Wonderful." Gil-galad said after a moment.

"Indeed." Belldaug said with a carefully blank expression, and Laurind caught a stray thought from him concerning his doubts that he could get away with leering at the High King, even in jest. She snickered and sent back a mental affirmative to that. Belldaug promptly fell over – or at least, almost did, he caught the door frame at the last moment, then looked over at Laurind in bewilderment.

"Exactly how close _were_ we?" he asked. Laurind just smiled serenely and turned to Gil-galad.

"Isn't supper set to begin soon?" she asked. Gil-galad paused, and then nodded. "Good. I had best go change, then." With that, Laurind curtseyed lightly to all assembled and headed inside, patting a still bewildered-looking Belldaug on the head as she went past. The four males stared after her for a moment.

"She really is going to make sure I remember the hard way, isn't she?" Belldaug asked after a moment.

"I think she's using it as revenge for dieing on her." Gil-galad replied dryly. "Now – Belldaug, I leave you to fill Thranduil in on what happened today at the council. Elrond, come, I shall explain further." With that, the High King herded Elrond off into the palace, leaving Belldaug and Thranduil alone on the steps. They looked at each other for a moment, unsure.

"I take it you've gotten over whatever snit you were in?" Belldaug asked after a moment. Thranduil arched an eyebrow.

"It was not a snit." he replied. "It was a period of mistaken thinking." Belldaug smiled slightly, knowing that that was as close to an apology as he'd get out of Thranduil.

"Right." Belldaug said, then came down the steps, brought himself level to Thranduil, and held out his hand. "Friends again?" he asked. Thranduil didn't even hesitate in grasping in, a small smile on his lips.

"Yes." the Prince replied.

"Good. Because as soon as I finish telling you about what you missed, I want to hear all about your day." Belldaug said with a grin, draping his arm over Thranduil's shoulders as he steered the Prince into the palace. Thranduil just chuckled.

---

Supper that night was an interesting affair. Belldaug's memory seemed to have gone into overdrive, and for the first half of the meal, he was constantly stopping his conversations in the middle of a sentence to ask Laurind if something he'd just remembered actually had happened. Then he recalled the way Laurind had mentally Sent to him earlier, and started sending his questions that way, nearly shocking Laurind out of her chair the first time he did it. In-between these questions to Laurind, Belldaug was talking almost non-stop with Thranduil, both wanting to catch up on what the other had been doing. Elrond, for his part, was rather silent, alternating between a thoughtful frown and almost awe-filled glances towards Belldaug. Gil-galad alternated between trying to get Elrond to talk, talking to Laurind, trying to shut Laurind up when she decided to tell stories of him as a child, and interrupting Belldaug and Thranduil's conversation to 'correct' them on some fine point or another. Laurind was just adding to the general chaos at the head table as much as she could.

However care-free and easy the mood was at supper, though, it changed drastically afterwards. Thranduil and Belldaug decided to walk Laurind back to her rooms, and along the way Laurind made a casual comment about needing to pack. So it was revealed that Laurind was planning on leaving with them the next day, which Thranduil and Belldaug strongly objected to. As soon as they reached Laurind's rooms, Belldaug left Thranduil to try and talk some sense into Laurind and went to fetch Gil-galad to settle the matter by forbidding Laurind to go. However, that did not work out quite the way they thought it would.

"Do you know how to fight?" was the first thing Gil-galad asked when he stepped in the room. There was no question of who he was talking to.

"Yes. Gl–my brother wouldn't let me leave Gondolin, even to look after you, unless I'd learned." Laurind replied promptly, quickly stopping herself from saying Glorfindel's name as she remembered Belldaug was in the room. There was no telling what hearing his name from his last life would do to Belldaug's memory at this point.

"And did he teach you himself?" Gil-galad asked. Laurind nodded. "Very well." And with that, Gil-galad turned and walked out of the room. Belldaug and Thranduil gaped after him, and then slowly turned to Laurind.

"Belldaug, my brother killed a Balrog." Laurind said calmly, addressing him first. Understanding lit on the reborn Lord's face, and then he nodded in acceptance, so Laurind turned to Thranduil. She stepped closer to him and spoke quietly, so that Belldaug could not hear, "I know you want to protect me by getting me to stay here, but you, more than anyone, know my fear of losing him once again. I _would_ fade if he died and I could have saved him had I been there – even your love could not stop me." Thranduil sighed, nodded, and then pulled Laurind to him in a hug.

"Just don't exchange your life for his." Thranduil said softly into Laurind's ear before releasing her.

"Now, unless you two want to help me pack, _out!_" Laurind commanded. Thranduil and Belldaug left with hurried goodbyes, causing Laurind to chuckle before turning to call her maids from where they had hidden in her bedroom when she'd come in engaged in what was practically a shouting match with Thranduil and Belldaug. Unsurprisingly, not a single one of the maids objected when Laurind informed them that she needed to pack for a trip with the army.

---

Thranduil and Belldaug weren't the only ones to complain to Gil-galad when they found out Laurind was coming to the siege with the army – everyone who had sufficient rank to complain to the High King did so the next day, it seemed. Still, Gil-galad insisted that Laurind come. He wasn't stupid, and knew exactly why Laurind wanted to come. For that, Laurind was grateful. Still, she stuck close to Thranduil and Belldaug that morning, hiding behind them from the disapproving glares of others. They found it quite amusing, and took the opportunity to suggest that maybe Laurind would like to stay after all, just to get away from the glares. Unfortunately, they made that comment right before the army set out, and thus had no time to wash the mud off the back of their armor. It amused those that marched or rode behind them for the entire day, especially when Laurind drew little smiling faces in the mud. It was gone the next day, however.

It was several days before they reached the besieged town, but long before that, Belldaug, Thranduil and Laurind started wondering about what could be going on in this small little town that their besiegement required the full council and most of the standing army. Because truly – it was a small little town. There were maybe twenty villagers. And, granted, every Elvish life was precious, that still didn't account for the SIZE of the force going, especially when Gil-galad, upon being questioned, said that the town was being besieged by a group of around fifty men. Finally, the night before they were supposed to reach the town, Belldaug, Thranduil and Laurind cornered Gil-galad. (the perks of Thranduil's rank allowing them to do so)

"How can it require half the standby Elvish army to clear a besieging army of fifty men from a small town of twenty?" Thranduil demanded once they finally had Gil-galad cornered. Gil-galad, not quite realizing he was cornered, looked around the clearing in which Belldaug, Thranduil and Laurind had set upon him, only then realizing that no one besides the three information-wanting Elves before him was within sight.

"Last I checked, twenty Elves could clear out a siege of fifty men." Belldaug pointed out when Gil-galad remained silent. Gil-galad sighed.

"You do realize that it's terribly improper to corner your liege lord and demand information?" Gil-galad tried.

"You are not my liege lord." Thranduil said with amusement. "Hence why I am asking you why we need half the standby army on this trip. Belldaug and Laurind are simply here to remind you of helpful pieces of information." Gil-galad eyed the Lady and Reborn Lord suspiciously.

"Right." he said, clearly disbelieving.

"So?" Thranduil demanded, and Gil-galad sighed.

"The leader of the besieging army is a wizard." he admitted. The three inquiring elves' eyebrows shot up.

"A wizard?" Laurind asked with no little disbelief. "Impossible."

"So we all thought." Gil-galad said. "Then the messenger came to the council reporting a group of fifty men led by a man who darkened the sky and lit fires with the touch of a hand." Thranduil, Laurind and Belldaug looked at each other.

"Is it, by any chance, too late to make you go back?" Belldaug asked Laurind. Laurind snorted.

"This only makes me even more glad I came." she replied.

"And this will be the only time you get away with such a thing." Gil-galad commented pointedly.

"But –" Laurind started to protest, only to be cut off by Gil-galad.

"I have had every single soldier of rank complain to me during the past several days about your accompanying us. While I respect your abilities as a fighter, I simply do not have the time to put up with such complaints while planning military strategy. Plus, inadvertently or not, you distract everyone, especially when you fling mud at two of my commanders." Gil-galad said sternly. Thranduil and Belldaug smirked at the inadvertent, and advantageous, revenge. Laurind sighed, looking forlorn, and Gil-galad looked at her in amusement, then, while Thranduil and Belldaug were too busy being pleased with Gil-galad's new decision to stop him, the High King of the Noldor fled the Lady and two Lords and escaped back to camp.

"He is perfectly correct, you know." Belldaug pointed out after Gil-galad had escaped. Laurind wrinkled up her nose and stuck her tongue out at Belldaug.

"Careful were you stick that." Thranduil said with amusement.

"He might just bite it." Belldaug said with a smirk, and then dashed off at Thranduil and Laurind's cries of outrage. The two gave chase, and by the time they settled down for the evening meal, they all had hearty appetites which shocked even the soldiers. The three found themselves the butt of gluttony jokes the entire evening.

The next morning, however, everyone was serious as they approached the besieged town. The column of Elves was eerily quiet as they came to the hill over which the besieged town was located – not even their armor seemed to make any noise as they walked. Silently, Gil-galad made motions with his hands, and commanders split off with their squadrons to encircle the town. Laurind stayed with Gil-galad, as did Belldaug, though Thranduil had been put in charge of a squadron that was to go to the other side of town.

Finally, riders that had gone with the squadrons came back, indicating that everyone was in place, and with a blow of a horn, the Elvish army moved out of hiding. The besieged town was in a valley between hills, with scrubby ground, some tilled for crops, surrounding it on all sides. A small river, which the besieging army had dammed, ran through the valley, and the center of town. The remains of a small, central pond could be seen in the center of the town from Laurind's vantage point on top of one of the hills next to the town.

However, the besieging group of men was no where to be seen.

"Where are the attackers?" Belldaug murmured.

"Already inside." Gil-galad replied grimly. Laurind and Belldaug looked at him in surprise. "One of my scouts encountered an injured messenger from the town two days ago. The men broke through the town defenses the day after we left the palace. Every Elf inside now is either dead or dying." Laurind and Belldaug swore at the same instant, turning angry glares on the town below. "Now it is simply a matter of holding on to what land is ours. If we can."

"We are three times their number. We can defeat them without trouble." Belldaug said with a snort.

"I would not be so sure. You have not seen their guardian." Gil-galad said softly.

"Their what?" Belldaug asked, frowning, and then a rumble sounded from the town. Laurind turned, eyes wide, as the sound pulled up memories. Belldaug, too, seemed to remember the sound, and turned his attention to the town. They watched the largest building in the town, a hall several stories high, as it trembled and shook. Neither Elf noticed as the sky darkened, their gazes fixed on the building that had begun to glow with an eerily familiar red light.

Then, with a tremendous noise, the sides of the building exploded outwards, revealing a Balrog of Morgoth.


	9. The 'Oh Crap' and 'Bad Gilly' Chapter

** The House of the Golden Flower **

Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Laurind. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien – or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)

Author's Note:  
Things that have changed for the better since last chapter:  
- I finished writing 50,000 words on my novel. The novel itself is not finished, but hey, it's 50,000 words long now!  
- I finished watching Buffy  
Things that have not changed:  
- I'm still behind in schoolwork  
Things that have changed for the not-so-better:  
- There is now season six of Star Trek: The Next Generation downstairs waiting to be watched. (Yes, I'm a closet trekkie. SH! Don't tell anyone!)  
- I went to a book store, and thus found good books, and went and got them from the library, so now I have a stack of library books to read  
- I got a job. Yay for the fast food industry.

So. I'm sure most of you can see that the things for the 'not so better' and those that have not changed far outweigh the 'things that have changed for the better'. What does this mean? It means I couldn't make an even slightly educated guess as to when my next update is going to be. It won't be seven months or whatever, I hope it's not even a month. After all - christmas vacation, right? However, I'm not sure how much time I'm going to have to write with my new job. But rest assured, I am still writing...whenever I get the chance, and my shiny new Age of Wonders doesn't distract me...

And now, on with the far-to-fun-to-write chapter!

Chapter 9: The 'Oh Crap!' and 'Bad Gilly!' Chapter

At first, there was utter silence. Gil-galad, and whoever else had known about the Balrog, had apparently not even warned the soldiers about the Balrog, and all of them were looking on in shock. Laurind, Belldaug and Thranduil were, by far, the most shocked, however. Then the Balrog roared a challenge, flame and shadow flaring up behind it, and surprise was gone. The soldiers, to their merit, grimly readied themselves, not a single one running, while the commanders readied to attack on Gil-galad's signal. Most of them did, at any rate. Laurind was of the mind to give Gil-galad a thorough reaming out, but was stopped when Belldaug let out a cry of pain and fell from his horse. In a moment, Laurind was by his side.

"Belldaug!" she called in fear, finding that the reborn Lord's eyes were closed, and his breath was fast and uneven. Laurind sent a glare in Gil-galad's direction, but the High King merely watched with an unreadable face. Laurind called to Belldaug once again, but got no response – so she tried to contact his mind. Which was a big mistake.

The instant Laurind's mind touched Belldaug's, she was pulled in, and suddenly found herself standing beside Glorfindel as he faced down the Balrog that had been the cause of his death. She was forced to watch the battle as it played out – watched as the Balrog attacked, as Glorfindel was beaten down, as Glorfindel, in desperation, launched himself at the Balrog in a move that, while he knew it would kill the Balrog, would also send both it and him tumbling over the mountainside. And then Laurind was falling through the air with Glorfindel and the Balrog, and saw as her brother closed his eyes just moments before slamming into the mountainside with a force that had to have broken most of the bones in his body almost instantly. The last thing Laurind heard, as the memory faded, ending with the end of Glorfindel's life, was her own wail of grief from where she was still standing with the refugees, and the last thing she saw was Thorondor diving down, knowing that he was far too late.

Then, with a gasp, Laurind was back in the present, staring down at Belldaug as he lay on the ground. Except he wasn't Belldaug anymore. Green eyes the same colour as her own stared up at Laurind, hundreds of years of experience held behind them – experience and pain.

"Glorfindel?" Laurind asked softly. The Elf Lord nodded slightly, then pushed himself up.

_::Remind me to do something nasty to Gil-galad later.::_ Glorfindel said in Laurind's mind, glaring up at Gil-galad as he did so.

_::I will be more than happy to – and I'll help you do something nasty, as well.::_ Laurind replied with a verbal growl, adding her own glare to Glorfindel's as she looked up at the High King. Gil-galad, now a little nervous with both siblings glaring at him full force, surreptitiously got his horse to back away a few steps. Then the Balrog roared again, and the twins turned their attention back to the town just as the Balrog, apparently having decided that someone over there was important, began walking in their direction.

That was, of course, when Laurind and Glorfindel actually looked at the Balrog and noticed something that they'd missed before – something that they found so hilariously funny that they both started laughing right then and there. Gil-galad backed his horse away even more, now afraid that the two siblings had cracked mentally.

_::Sooo…you want to burst its bubble?::_ Laurind asked Glorfindel mentally, nodding towards the Balrog, after their laughter had subsided some.

_::If you'll let me.::_ Glorfindel said with a grin.

_::Go, have fun.::_ Laurind said, giving her brother a shove. Glorfindel grinned again, then leaped to his feet and vaulted onto his horse, spurring it down towards the Balrog. Laurind got up at a more leisurely pace and mounted her horse, watching as Glorfindel galloped down to the Balrog. The Balrog, seeing a lone figure heading for it, stopped and waited expectantly.

"Uh…Laurind?" Gil-galad said uncertainly, coming up beside her.

"Shush, you're in enough trouble already." Laurind said. "You make me miss this to explain to you, and you'll be in double the trouble." Gil-galad wisely shut up and watched along with Laurind, though he was utterly confused, creeped out, and slightly frightened. Then Glorfindel reached the Balrog, reining his horse to a stop, and drew his sword. When he spoke, his voice echoed through the valley that the town rested in with the volume and clarity that only someone used to shouting commands to troops could summon.

"I am Lord Glorfindel, Chief of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin! I have slain Balrogs before you, and now I challenge you!"

_::You've only slain one Balrog, brother.::_ Laurind mentally scolded Glorfindel.

_::Shh.::_ Glorfindel replied, just as the Balrog roared in response, reaching towards Glorfindel as if to grab him. Casually, Glorfindel swiped out with his sword – and the Balrog's arm fell off, causing it to let out another roar.

"What the…?" Gil-galad muttered from beside Laurind.

"Did you know that Balrogs' have wings?" Laurind asked conversationally. "Non-functional, but they have them." Gil-galad looked at Laurind for a moment, then back at the decidedly wingless 'Balrog', which was now short it's other arm. Gil-galad then watched as the 'Balrog', in the middle of another roar of pain, shimmered, wavered, and then disappeared into tiny motes of light, which themselves faded away in rather short order, the detached arms doing the same thing only moment behind the rest of the body.

"Um." Gil-galad said in surprise, blinking. Then, of course, the group of men that had overtaken the town, enraged that Glorfindel had 'killed' their illusionary champion, charged out of the buildings where they had been hidden, heading straight for Glorfindel.

"Though I'm sure Glorfindel has enough pent-up energy and rage to get rid of all those men, we should still probably go help him." Laurind said conversationally.

"Right." Gil-galad said, then had Elrond sound the charge. The Elvish army headed down into the town at a frightening pace – and by the time they got down there, the Men had all dropped their weapons and surrendered. Except for the five that had managed, to their misfortune, to get within reach of Glorfindel's sword. They were just plain dead.

"Well that was…quick." Thranduil commented as he rode over to where Gil-galad, Elrond and Laurind were.

"Wasn't a real Balrog." Laurind explained simply, scanning the surrendered Men for their leader. One of the first things Glorfindel had taught her, and that had stuck with her, was that a battle was never over until you had the leader either captive or dead. There was no one sticking out as a leader, however, and Laurind looked over to Glorfindel in puzzlement, sending him a questioning thought. He was looking around, as well, but seemed to be at as much of a loss as Laurind – then he looked over at Laurind, and let out a sudden mental yell. Laurind, out of instinct, threw herself off her horse…and the dagger that had been thrown at her back whizzed by and embedded itself in a wall. Laurind and Glorfindel let out identical mental curses, and then Glorfindel spurred his horse into a gallop, heading after the man – clearly the leader, judging from his overly fancy clothes – who had thrown the dagger at Laurind. On his way by, Glorfindel grabbed Laurind's hand and pulled her up on his horse behind him, knowing she'd want to be part of capturing the Man.

The wizard-leader didn't get far, only to the edge of town, before Glorfindel and Laurind caught up. Glorfindel let Laurind take over the reins of his horse as they approached the man, then executed a rather showy flying-tackle.

_::Show-off!::_ Laurind accused mentally, knowing that Glorfindel could have just as easily knocked the leader out without leaving the horse's back.

_::I'm just appreciating and exercising my newly remembered reflexes and abilities!::_ Glorfindel shot back, standing up and dusting himself off after delivering a sharp blow to the back of the leader's head, rendering him unconscious.

_::You're showing off for Gil-galad and the rest of them.::_ Laurind insisted.

_::And if I am, where's the harm?::_ Glorfindel asked, scowling at Laurind.

_::Nowhere, I just want you to realize that you are showing off.::_ Laurind replied cheerfully.

_::You can be completely unbearable, you know that?::_ Glorfindel asked with a roll of his eyes.

_::You've told me that before, but I still refuse to believe it.::_ Laurind said with a chuckle. _::Now we should probably get Mr. Unconscious-and-flattened there back to Gil-galad.::_

_::'Flattened'?::_ Glorfindel exclaimed in mock outrage as he began tying the leader's hands and feet. _::I did not flatten him!::_

_::You merely squished him a little?::_ Laurind supplied, guessing what was coming next. Glorfindel and Laurind both laughed aloud as Glorfindel handed the captured Man up to Laurind, who then turned Glorfindel's horse and headed back towards Gil-galad and the army commanders, Glorfindel walking along beside.

---

Thranduil watched his friend with amazement as he walked back towards the High King. There was nothing physically different about Belldaug - or Glorfindel, Thranduil supposed he was now. But there was a strong difference in his presence. Even when he had been off capturing the leader of the men, Thranduil could sense his power - could sense his age. More than that was the way he moved now: Belldaug had been a combat genius - Glorfindel was a combat master. Every move he made was precise, and you could tell that he knew exactly what was going on around him, even though he kept his eyes either forward or upon his sister as they headed for the High King.

No, there was nothing physically different about Belldaug. But everything else that could be different, was, in some form or another.

It unsettled Thranduil, to be truthful, and so he stayed back, simply watching, as Glorfindel and Laurind handed the leader of the Men over to some soldiers that Gil-galad pulled out of the surrounding army. Thranduil suspected that the soldiers Gil-galad had picked had some skills or abilities that would help them keep a magician captive - Gil-galad wasn't stupid enough to put normal soldiers in charge of someone with magical ability. Some of his counselors might be, but Gil-galad wasn't.

Further evidence of the stupidity of some of Gil-galad's counselors came when one of them remarked, as they discussed their quick, zero-casualty victory, that Belldaug had taken quite a chance going down and facing that Balrog, claiming to be a Balrog-slayer of old in order to frighten it – even though it had turned out not to be a Balrog, after all. Laurind exchanged an amused look with Glorfindel at the comment, and then Glorfindel casually strolled up to the counselor, still on his horse, that had made the comment. A blink of the eye, and the counselor was off his horse, being held up only by Glorfindel's grip on the front of his tunic.

"You think I was lying to the Balrog when I declared who I was?" he growled, looking very dangerous - though judging from Laurind's grin, Glorfindel was just showing off.

"Y-y - no?" the counselor stuttered, eyes wide. Glorfindel smiled pleasantly at the answer, then returned the counselor to his horse.

"So that we're ABSOLUTELY CLEAR here," Glorfindel said in a loud voice, turning to the other counselors, "I am Glorfindel of Gondolin reborn. My sister Laurind can attest to this, as could anyone who knew me from before the fall of Gondolin." the counselors looked at Laurind with new respect now that she knew who she was, but for the most part, their attention was on Glorfindel as he continued. "Yes, I do know that it should not be possible for me to be standing here now, but I am not one to guess at the motivations or plans of the Valar, and I would suggest that none of you try to, either." Several of the counselors actually did nod in agreement with that - the rest were too obviously already doing what Glorfindel had just suggested not doing.

"And on that note, I believe it's time we saw about dealing with this defeated band of Men and our conquered town." Gil-galad announced, dismounting from his horse. The rest of his counselors hastily followed him - except for Thranduil, who refused to dismount just because the High King had out of pure Sylvan stubbornness. So he had a wonderful view of the chaos as Gil-galad and his counselors set the army into motion, gathering the weapons of the surrendered Men, tying up the Men themselves, and organizing a way to travel. They'd apparently decided, in an amazingly short piece of time, that they were going to return to last night's camp rather than stay in the village over night. It wasn't all that far away, after all.

"I don't think a single one of them besides Gil-galad actually knows what they're doing." a voice said from by Thranduil's right foot, and he jerked his head towards the voice in surprise. Glorfindel stood there, looking at the knot of counselors in amusement. "I don't know why he thought they'd actually be useful if there was a real wizard and Balrog to fight. They're more likely to run the other direction than lead a charge against either." Thranduil just grunted in mild agreement - while most of the counselors would run away, there were a few of them had fooled themselves into thinking they were heroic warriors and might actually lead a charge.

"So I'm guessing from your lack of surprise and discomfort that Laurind informed you ahead of time of who I truly am." Glorfindel said, turning to look up at Thranduil.

"Mm-hm." Thranduil said, smiling in slight amusement as he recalled why she'd felt the need to tell him.

"Well then," Glorfindel said, smiling somewhat predatorily. "I suppose you will understand, then, that I now find myself needing to inquire about your intentions towards my sister." Thranduil's eyes widened.

"Yes." he choked out. "I do indeed."

"Why don't you get off that horse so we can chat about it, then?" Glorfindel said, his eyes gleaming, and Thranduil had no doubt that his friend would pull him off the horse much as he had with the counselor if Thranduil didn't seem inclined to get off by himself. Thranduil got off - quickly. Glorfindel smiled brightly, draping an arm over Thranduil's shoulders, and lead him away from the mass of Men and Elves that was the army. Thranduil managed to catch Laurind's eye as she chatted with Elrond, and sent her a pleading look, but if she took any action, Thranduil couldn't see - or hear - it.

---

By the time the Elvish army, with it's collection of captives, got back to Gil-galad's capital, the news of Glorfindel's return had, somehow, already gotten ahead of them. Laurind suspected that was due to the messengers they'd sent ahead of their staggeringly easy victory, but even then, it was surprising to find the streets lined with what looked like every creature in the city. Glorfindel, however, almost literally lighted up when he saw the people on the street, and Laurind had to send him a stern mental message not to show off too badly. He was, after all, only a Lord and Counselor - Gil-galad was the High King. It wouldn't do to upstage him.

Gil-galad seemed to understand that the crowd really wanted to see Glorfindel, however, and so motioned for the reborn Lord to come up to the front. Supposedly, it was to talk, but most of the talking seemed to be done out of the corner of their mouths, in-between smiling at the people as they passed. About half-way to the palace, Laurind realized that most of the people, once they'd seen Glorfindel, were looking over at her, making it clear that news of how she was related to Glorfindel and where she was from had also reached the capital. Unlike her brother, however, Laurind disliked being the center of attention of so many people, and so she re-arranged things so that she was riding between Elrond and Thranduil - both of whom were taller than her, besides having taller horses. They looked amused at her hiding between them, but neither made a comment, nor did they move and deny her the cover.

Finally, they reached the palace, but it was there that an unpleasant surprise awaited them. There had been no indication from messengers, or from the people in the street, that anyone new from the Sylvan Elves had arrived - but it was obvious that someone had the moment they entered the courtyard. It would have been hard to mistake the elf bearing an extremely superior, haughty look on his face as he stood on the steps of the palace, and the two guards beside him with equally haughty looks, as anything besides Sylvan. The way Thranduil straightened and stiffened was also a clear indication of who they were, especially when - without any preamble - he steered his horse towards them, not even bothering to dismount as he talked quietly with the Elf.

Gil-galad, eyeing the exchange, motioned Cúmehtar - who was standing at the edge of the courtyard, also eyeing the new Sylvan Elves - over. Laurind carefully edged herself closer, trying to hear, but was unsuccessful. Only Gil-galad's widened eyes and startled look let Laurind know that whatever was going on was not good - something further confirmed when Thranduil dismounted from his horse and disappeared into the palace with the three Sylvan Elves without even seeing to his horse. A groom scrambled to get the horse.

_::Did you...?::_ Glorfindel asked mentally, catching Laurind's eye across the courtyard, not needing to finish the question.

_::They were talking too quietly.::_ Laurind replied with a physical shake of her head. _::I suspect you could get in on whatever is going on, however.::_

_::No, I don't think I could.::_ Glorfindel said, eyeing Gil-galad and Cúmehtar as they headed for the palace, deep in discussion, ignoring everything around them.

_::Time for the less direct, but likely more informative, approach, then.::_ Laurind said. _::I'll go find my maids.::_ Glorfindel's mental chuckle was Laurind's response as she headed into the palace herself.


	10. And Behind Door Number One…

** The House of the Golden Flower **

Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Laurind. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien – or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)

Author's Note:  
Sorry for the wait…things got busy. (malls at christmas time…yech) But then, wonderful stroke of fortune that it is for all you reviewers, there was a blizzard. Which meant that I really had no excuse NOT to write…So you have the next chapter, and I've already started writing on chapter 11…we'll see how quickly I can get that one out. Maybe actually in a decent amount of time, eh?

EDIT: Yeah, sooo...I got the names Orophin and Oropher messed up. Orophin is Haldir's brother, and an archer in Lothlorian...Oropher is the King of the Greenwood. (and a stupid suicidal arse cough) But it's all good now! Thanks to the two reviewers who spotted the mess-up in names!

Chapter10: And Behind Door Number One…

Laurind's maids, surprisingly, didn't know all that much, other than that a party of Sylvan Elves had arrived not long after the army had left, had gone to the council chambers to talk with the few remaining council members that were left, and all the servants had been dismissed shortly afterwards. Several of those dismissed servants had stuck around, of course, and swore that they'd heard raised voices inside the chambers – and the voices would have had to be raised quite a bit to have been heard outside the chambers. The council chambers were specifically built to stop eavesdropping.

But the cluelessness of the newly-returned army and councellors was apparently not unique just to them. The Sylvan Elves had claimed several rooms near Thranduil's, and then had simply settled in, apparently waiting for Gil-galad - or perhaps Thranduil - to return, only the three Elves that had met Thranduil outside - out of what was reportedly a group of more than twenty - showing their faces after their arrival. And those three had ignored all attempts at being engaged in conversation, unless the conversation concerned Thranduil or the army and when it might return.

Now that the army had returned, however, things began happening. The servants, who had always liked Glorfindel, ever since he came as Beldaug, because he dismissed his servants quite often, giving them free days, and listened to what they had to say, were more than happy to report comings and goings to him and his sister. So Laurind and Glorfindel sat in Laurind's sitting room, having tea and chatting amiably - chatting up, supposedly, while every once and awhile a servants would bring cakes or refills or some such thing and casually, quietly, mention some new tidbit of information, which Glorfindel and Laurind would then thank them for, then go over mentally while continuing to verbally talk about somethign else entirely. This was not a new thing to Laurind and Glorfindel - they'd done it before in Gondolin, and in Valinor. They were, of course, a little out of practice, each slipping up once or twice, inciting much teasing from the other before continuing on in their double conversation.

The more information the servants brought them, however, the more worried they got, and when the servants finally reported that Gil-galad and Cúmehtar had gone into the Sylvan Elves quarters, they both gave up on their false conversation and just conversed mentally, worried expressions on both their faces.

_::It has to be someone important. Maybe one of Thranduil's brothers?::_ Glorfindel said.

_::I doubt it...from what he's told me, his brothers would be disgusted at the thought of coming within sight of a Noldor city. Nevermind entering one.::_ Laurind said.

_::What if they had an order from King Oropher?:: _Glorfindel suggested.

_::That might do it. And Thranduil would only have jumped off and gone like that if the messenger had the weight of the King behind him.::_ Laurind said, then her eyes widened. _::Valar, what if it's Oropher _himself Glorfindel quickly shook his head.

_::He's refused to leave his kingdom for many years to even converse with Gil-galad - Thranduil was actually the first Sylvan Elf not a border guard that any of the Noldor have had contact with since Oropher decided that he didn't like and wouldn't follow Gil-galad.::_ Glorfindel said. _::It would take something big to get him to come here now - and as far as I know, nothing 'big' has occured.::_

_::Not that I know his thoughts...::_ Laurind said shakily, then switched to vocal in her worry, "But wouldn't his first-born son and heir to his crown courting a Noldor lady count as 'big' to him?" Glorfindel looked at Laurind for a moment, then opened his mouth to protest that such a thing surely couldn't be the reason, but Laurind stopped him with a wave of her hand.

"You can't lie to me anymore than I can lie to you, Glorfindel." she said with a sigh.

"We don't even know that it's him." Glorfindel said. "Rumours of you and Thranduil may have reached back to Oropher - though the Valar know how, considering how little contact there are between the Sylvan and Noldor - but it may be something entirely different. Thranduil has been walking around without guards - he just went with the army on a possibly dangerous mission, and if you'd noticed, he left his guards behind when he came. I know, I watched when he flat-out ordered them to stay behind."

"Still, my relationship with Thranduil won't be good news." Laurind said with a sigh.

"True. But you are Vanyar, not Noldor, and if Oropher is as picky as I've heard he is, he might just appreciate the difference." Glorfindel said, trying to be comforting. Laurind chuckled somewhat bitterly at that, and when Glorfindel looked at her curiously, she shared, in a flash of mentally memory, the time she'd pointed that same thing out to Thranduil. Glorfindel's eyebrows shot up, and Laurind felt him hold back a barrage of questions about the setting. Instead, he settled on pointing out the obvious. "Then Thranduil is aware of the difference, which means if it, Valar forbid, actually _is_ his father, he will, likely, think of presenting it."

"I wouldn't go 'Valar forbid' so quickly." Laurind said with a sigh. "It probably _is_ Oropher. The more that I think about it, the more sure I become that it's him. Thranduil doesn't exactly get along with most of his brothers - he's told me that they're the only wood elves he doesn't actually get along with - and Gil-galad wouldn't hop-to so quickly and visit just another Prince of the Greenwood. The only explanation for both Thranduil and Gil-galad's quick responses is Oropher. Aso, the honour guard that came with our mysterious Elf is at least twice the size as Thranduil's. And he came with an aide. Thranduil most deffinately didn't."

At that moment, there was a loud banging on Laurind's door, and both she and Glorfindel looked over in startled surprise. Now that they weren't focused on their own conversation, they could hear another one going on outside the door. There was apparently at least three people outside of Laurind's door - one recognizably Thranduil - and they were arguing over whether this was necisary. One or two 'Your Majesty's, and Laurind shot Glorfindel and triumphant look.

_::Told you.::_ she said, just ahead of Glorfindel saying that she'd needn't say she told him so. Glorfindel rolled him eyes and chuckled.

_::Well, answer the door, then.::_ he said.

_::One of my maids should...it will give a bad impression if I do.::_ Laurind said worriedly, glad for once that mental conversation took place much faster than verbal, so that their discussion wasn't causing a noticable delay.

_::Your maids are all out gathering information. Badly, I might add, since none of them arrived ahead of time to warn us of this.::_ Glorfindel pointed out. _::Now answer the door. It will do more harm to make him wait than to open it yourself.::_ Laurind sighed, sending a mental agreement, then stood up and went over to the door. She glanced back at Glorfindel, who had also stood up, and drew in a deep breath before opening the door.

Standing beyond, looking - literally - royally pissed off, was King Oropher of the Greenwood, his eldest son and an aide in tow, both glaring daggers at each other. Laurind mentally added the aide to the small list of wood elves Thranduil didn't get along with, already curtseying deeply to the King.

"Your Majesty. This is an unexpected honor." she said smoothly when Oropher motioned for her to rise with an irritated gesture. Laurind opened the door farther, stepping to the side. "Please, do come in." Oropher nodded in curt acceptance of the invitation, almost stalking into the room, Thranduil and his aide making to follow until he shot them a forbidding glance. Thranduil grimaced, then sent Laurind an apologetic look as he motioned for her to close the door on them. Laurind, with a tentative smile back at Thranduil, did as he motioned and Oropher apparently intended, shutting the door and leaving her and Glorfindel alone with the King.

"And who might you be?" Oropher said roughly, though in a strongly cultured voice, once Laurind had closed the door, staring intently at Glorfindel. Then he glanced at Laurind. "No, the family resemblance is unmistakable. You would be Glorfindel."

"Lord Glorfindel, Chief of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin, if you please." Glorfindel said strongly, sketching a slight bow to the king, much slighter than Laurind's curtsey had been. Oropher eyed him for a moment, causing Laurind to send scolding thoughts her brother's way - which he staunchly ignored - and then the King let out a bark of laughter.

"Aye, you would be Lord Glorfindel." he said, apparently amused, and Glorfindel let a momentary grin cross his face. Laurind looked at her brother in confusion.

_::You're not the only one who's made some odd aquaintances over the years.::_ Glorfindel said with a smirk. _::I recall fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with Oropher for a few days during the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.::_

_::And you let me worry!::_ Laurind said, sending a mental blast of irritation as Glorfindel, who winced slightly at it. The expression, slight as it was, turned Oropher's attention back to Laurind.

"And you are his sister, Lady Laurind of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin." Oropher said musingly. Laurind let a small grimace go across her face at the full title, which apparently amused Oropher again, as he laughed once more. "One prefers the full title, the other doesn't. I wonder, who's the better politician for it?" Laurind pointed at Glorfindel, just as he pointed at her. Oropher laughed once more. Then, apparently having decided that he was going to be staying long enough to do so now, he flopped down into one of the chairs. Glorfindel quickly sat, as well, and Laurind soon joined him.

"I must admit, I'm surprised that you opened the door yourself. Though it's just as well, as I would have had you dismiss all your maids." Oropher said.

"My maids are currently...out." Laurind said carefully. From the look Oropher shot in Laurind's direction, however, he probably knew exactly what they were 'out' doing.

"My son tells me that he is in love with you." Oropher then announced, and the suddeness of it made Laurind blink.

_::He's, um, very direct and to the point.::_ Glorfindel informed Laurind. _::Always has been, especially when killing things.::_

_::That's so reassuring.::_ Laurind said sarcastically, and recieved a mental chuckle in response.

"Of course, my aide is absolutely scandalized, as is the entire court of the Greenwood, who merely think he's dallying with you." Oropher continued. "They were already begging me to recall Thranduil because of that, before the word came in that he'd gone off with the Noldorin army, leaving his guards behind."

_::Told you!::_ Laurind said triumphantly to Glorfindel.

_::And you wonder why I'm not telling you much about Oropher.::_ Glorfindel grumbled back.

_::Small revenge.::_ Laurind commented.

_::But still revenge, and satisfying because of that.::_ Glorfindel countered.

"Of course, none of them quite expected me to come get my son myself." Oropher said, not showing if he noticed the mental exchanges between the two twins. "But I suspected, and apparently rightly so, that if Thranduil was so obviously flaunting my instructions to him, he would be exceedingly stubborn about leaving. He wouldn't even follow my aide until he was informed that it was I, personally, who was here and wanting to see him."

"Thranduil does have a strong personality, Your Majesty." Laurind said carefully.

"Please, if my son sees fit to invite you to use his name, consider the same to apply to me." Oropher said, then turned a baleful eye on Glorfindel. "And don't you even think of 'Your Majesty'ing me."

"I wouldn't dare, Your - Oropher." Glorfindel said, purposely slipping, and looking as innocent as a new-born child as he did so. Oropher eyed Glorfindel for a moment, then snorted lightly and returned to ignoring the reborn lord in favour of Laurind.

"As you wish...Oropher." Laurind said uneasily. This was most certainly not what she'd expected of her first meeting with Oropher.

"Now, my court is all in a tither about you and Thranduil, as well as Thranduil's other antics here. There is absolutely no way that I cannot bring him back with me when I return to the Greenwood. Not and retain my people's respect." Oropher said, leaning forward intently. "I will bind and gag him if I have to, to bring him back. This envoy with the Noldor was an experimental thing, and in the eyes of my court, it has failed miserably." Laurind swallowed heavily, nodding slightly.

"A King must do what he must do." she said softly.

"My court has also dismissed any possibility of having a Noldorin envoy live in the Greenwood." Oropher said, leaning back in his chair again. "But, as my son has so astutely pointed out, you are NOT Noldor. You are Vanyar." Glorfindel shot Laurind an amused glance, arching an eyebrow, and Laurind smiled slightly.

"I may have aided him slightly in realizing that." Laurind said by way of an explanation when Oropher shot her a questioning glance, and he chuckled.

"I thought you might have. My son is an adept politician, except for the fact that he fails to see most barriers such as that between Noldor, Vanyar and Sylvan. It is what made him the ideal choice for the position of envoy to the Noldor." the King said.

"So are you suggesting that I allow my sister to go with your party when you return to the Greenwood?" Glorfindel asked, a somewhat hard edge in his voice.

_::'Allow'?::_ Laurind arched an eyebrow._ ::If he is, you will not stop me from going.::_

_::On the contrary.::_ Glorfindel said, causing Laurind to look at him in surprise, but Oropher was replying, and there was no chance to argue further with her brother.

"I am suggesting that I may be able to convince my court that a Vanyar is not as bad as a Noldor." Oropher said, steepling his fingers and eyeing the two twins. "And if your mental connection is as strong as it was when I last knew Glorfindel, which it seems it is, having one of you as an envoy would be even more useful than having Thranduil here."

"We're not quite sure about the strength of our connection yet." Laurind said, glancing at Glorfindel, suddenly extremely worried now that she realized Oropher meant that the invitation was open to either one of them. And judging from her brother's mood, he would be the one to accept if he had anything to say about it. Which he did.

"Very well, I shall not push. But despite my dislike of Gil-galad's high-handed ways, I would still like to remain in contact with him. Sauron is a threat to all of Middle-Earth, and it would not do to have him overcome us all simply because of a lack of communication."

"Indeed." Glorfindel said, nodding in agreement.

_::You know, I'm not sure Gil-galad will let you go now that you've recovered your memory.::_ Laurind said suddenly to Glorfindel, the thought just occuring to her. There was silence for a moment.

_::We'll see.:: _Glorfindel replied, his mental voice hard.

"How long can you stay?" Laurind asked Oropher, and the king considered it for a moment.

"Two, three more days, at maximum." he said, then, obviously catching onto the fact that there was some indecision about going, he added, "My invitation will be open even after I've left, however."

"You'll have an answer by the time you leave." Glorfindel stated, then smiled wryly as he glanced at Laurind. "Otherwise we might argue over it forever and nothing would ever happen." _::And while that would solve the problem of you going off to Thranduil's kingdom without a proper chaperone or any sort of protection, I am not so shallow as to deny that an envoy between the Sylvan and Noldor elves is essential.::_ Glorfindel added mentally to Laurind. Laurind sent back the mental equivalent of a grin. She was going to win this argument, and follow Thranduil home – she could feel it.


	11. You Can't Keep A Good Elf Down – Or In H...

** The House of the Golden Flower **

Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Laurind. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien – or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)

Author's Note:  
Mwaha. I like this chapter. Just because. And this time, I didn't accidentally use 'Orophin' instead of 'Oropher'. Not once! I really do know the difference between the two of them, dear readers...I was just, erm, testing to see if you were awake? hopefully looks around Yeah, alright, it completely slipped by me, especially since 'Orophin' is already in my computer's spellcheck, so the spellcheck didn't catch it.

Anyways. Enjoy the chapter. There's probably only going to be a few more.

Chapter 11: You Can't Keep A Good Elf Down – Or In His Room

Later, much later, Laurind found herself alone in her bedroom. Almost alone - her maids could be heard just beyond the door, speaking quietly with one another as they went about their various tasks. They would be retiring themselves, shortly, but Laurind herself had retired somewhat early, meaning that for once her maids were up when she wasn't. It was actually rather soothing, to lie in bed and listen to the quiet, undecipherable murmuring of her maids. Made up for the distinctly bothersome day.

It wouldn't have been bad, Laurind supposed, if it wasn't for the fact that Gil-galad had, inexplicably, sided with Glorfindel in the matter of Laurind not going to the Greenwood by herself, even if it meant he would have to lose his best military advisor or do without an envoy to the Greenwood. But even that could have been managed if it wasn't for the fact that Thranduil had disappeared - Laurind hadn't seen him since she had let Oropher into her rooms for their talk. Not like this made much of a difference to Laurind - she was still stubbornly insisting that she be the one to go, and no argument Glorfindel and Gil-galad had made yet had managed to sway her even a little bit. She was still confident she could win the argument, and end up being the envoy to the Greenwood.

It was just so much more difficult to do without any allies or the support of Thranduil.

Laurind sighed to herself in the darkness, closing her eyes as she wished, for once, that she could fall asleep with them closed, like a human. It seemed so much more reassuring to close your eyes and shut out the world before going to sleep. Reassuring - and somewhat depressing. Laurind had slept with her eyes closed once or twice, right after Glorfindel had died and Gondolin had fallen and she was close to fading. Memories of that time caused her to open her eyes with a shudder, and she found herself staring into green eyes. She opened her mouth to let out a yelp, but a hand over her mouth quickly stifled the sound. Then more besides just green eyes registered, and Laurind relaxed, smiling underneath the hand as she recognized who both hand and eyes belonged to.

"I was going to wait for your maids to retire to their own rooms, but they seem set and determined to stay up late tonight." Thranduil whispered.

"Well, they have lots to gossip about. What are you doing here? And where have you been all day?" Laurind asked just as quietly, sitting up in bed. Thranduil sat down on the edge of her bed, casually holding one of her hands as he did.

"My dear father decided that it was best if I remain in my rooms for the rest of the visit." Thranduil said with a roll of his eyes. "He seems to think I'm an elfling again."

"Well, you have been bad." Laurind said with amusement. "What about an answer to my first question?"

"I should think the answer was obvious." Thranduil said, arching an eyebrow, running an only partially teasing, appreciative look over what he could see of Laurind. She instinctively blushed, suddenly distinctly aware that she was in only her nightdress. "Plus I was going stir crazy." Thranduil said with a grin.

"You just came back from breaking a siege! How can you be going stir crazy already?" Laurind demanded.

"You will remember that the only actual fighting done during the breaking of that siege/occupation was done by your brother. Therefore, I had all the anticipation of a battle, but none of the actual battle. Anticipation with no action. It tends to hasten one to become stir crazy – even the soldiers are feeling it. If you'd looked out to the practice yards today, you would have seen them crowded as the soldiers fought mock-battles against each other to relieve the tension." Thranduil pointed out. Laurind let out a quiet laugh.

"I suppose you are right. So what did you have in mind? Simply hiding out for the night?" Laurind asked, tilting her head to one side.

"I should think you would know me better than that." Thranduil replied with a grin.

"You're right, I do know you better than that. Exactly how strenuously shall we have to work to get to our destination?" Laurind asked as she climbed out of bed.

"Not very. I was thinking of going to that stream that we found before, but then I realized it would be to far. Now I am thinking perhaps we could find a nice spot along that stream somewhat closer, or we go forego leaving the city and just find one of the Taverns to sequester ourselves in." Thranduil suggested, courteously turning his back to Laurind as she selected some clothes and changed into them.

"I'm not sure that it would be all that easy to get out of the city this late at night - a Tavern might be a better bet. We'd have to be very careful what one we picked, however. We cannot go to one whose main clientele are humans, for fear of being noticed as a rare type of client, and we cannot pick one frequented mainly by Elves, either, as there is too much risk we could be recognized." Laurind said as she changed, watching very carefully to make sure Thranduil didn't peek while she did so.

"Anything I can think of is somewhat risky, to tell the truth." Thranduil said with a shrug of his shoulders, smiling as Laurind came around his side, fully dressed. "I'm open to any suggestions you might have." he said, standing and motioning to the window with an over-elegant bow.

"A Tavern sounds like a fine idea." Laurind said as she made for the window. Then she cast an amused look at Thranduil. "I'm not to sure it would be a wise idea for us to be alone together around now, or I might be tempted to take some decisions out of my brother's hands."

"Only tempted?" Thranduil said, his eyes glittering.

"Yes - only tempted." Laurind said with a mischievous grin, then slipped out the window. It was a little hard to climb out her window in a dress, and even more difficult to get out of the palace (which involved climbing no few walls) in the same attire, but Thranduil was always there to help when Laurind had troubles, and so she made it without much trouble.

The only close call came when, just as Laurind was about to jump down from a wall, she felt the familiar touch on her mind that meant Glorfindel was checking in on her - something he habitually did, even before he died, right before he went to sleep. Laurind wasn't even sure that he consciously decided to do it anymore. Laurind was quite startled by the touch, however, and almost lost her balance as she quickly blanked her mind and let the random drifting thoughts that only a sleeping person could have slip through her head. Apparently, the deception worked, as the touch withdrew, and there was no sense of alarm or worry from Glorfindel.

After that, it was actually amazingly easy to get out of the palace. Laurind suspected that Thranduil might have taken a roundabout route getting to her chambers, one that involved taking him by the barracks of the night guard so he could hand out some Greenwood gold, but she didn't bother to confirm her suspicions. Either way, they still managed to make it out of the palace and down into the city.

It took them somewhat longer to find a suitable Tavern, but find one they did, called The Glimmering Hilt of all things, and they soon found a nice corner to settle down in and talk. There was some interest over the fact that Thranduil had Greenwood money to pay for their drinks, of course, but Thranduil just claimed to be one of the newer Sylvan elves to have arrived, one with more tolerance than most, and everyone left it at that. Laurind doubted anyone in the Tavern had ever been inside the palace gates here, anyways, despite the fact that around a third of the patrons of the Tavern were elves.

"So, here we are in a Tavern in the city, having escaped from the rigidly boring confines of the palace." Laurind said quietly once they were settled and had their drinks. "What shall we do now?"

"I thought we might discuss ways to help you win your argument against your brother and his new ally." Thranduil replied with a smile, and Laurind giggled lightly.

"Perfect." she said, and so they set to planning. Most of their 'planning' consisted of entirely outrageous things like forging letters, using Laurind's mind-link with Glorfindel to aide in hypnotizing him into agreeing, and so on and so forth. There really wasn't much intention to actually come up with a way to solve the argument, and both Laurind and Thranduil knew it. They were just having a good time, enjoying each other's company, and finding a way to make fun of the one thing that was scaring them both – their impending separation.

Laurind and Thranduil stayed at the Tavern until it closed, they being the last customers besides one drunk human, who Thranduil helped the tavern keeper carry outside. Thranduil offered to see the man home, as well, but the tavern keeper replied something the effect of the only way for drunks to learn not to be drunks is to spend a night or too on the cold cobblestones. So Thranduil and Laurind, themselves having drunk more than the drunk had, but barely feeling the effects, left the drunk where he was and headed back to the palace. They got in as easily as they had gotten out, and soon they were standing beneath Laurind's window.

"Farewell until tomorrow night, then?" Thranduil asked softly, taking one of Laurind's hands and kissing it lightly, keeping his eyes on hers as he did so.

"As long as your father doesn't decide to leave before then." Laurind said with a sad smile, then, to Thranduil's surprise, pulled him into a hug before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and scurrying up the wall to her window, where she looked back down at Thranduil once – choosing to ignore the fact that he was most likely looking up her skirts as she climbed – before disappearing back inside.

If Glorfindel wondered why, the next day, Laurind was even more determined that she be allowed to go with Oropher and Thranduil as an envoy of the Noldor, he didn't ask – nor did Gil-galad.

---

Late the next day, Laurind found herself smirking at her twin as he finally, grudgingly, gave her permission to go to the Greenwood as the Vanyar envoy. Glorfindel glared when he saw her smirking, and heard her mental comment that she knew he'd say yes eventually, but Laurind didn't stick around long enough to rub in Glorfindel's defeat in the matter, instead excusing herself from her twin's company as quickly as possible and making for the rooms of the Sylvan elves.

Security around the rooms had been tightened since Oropher arrived, so Laurind found herself explaining her name and business to a Sylvan guard before she even came within sight of Oropher or Thranduil's door. And once she had explained her business, she was supplied with another guard as an escort, to make sure she did, actually, go to speak with Oropher - which ruined Laurind's half-formed plan to get in a visit to Thranduil, which made it a good thing that she hadn't really counted on being able to get into see him. Apparently not even servants were being allowed into Thranduil's rooms - Oropher's orders.

"Ah, I had a feeling you would win the argument." Oropher said with a smile when Laurind explained why she was there.

"Of course I did. I'm the elder twin, now." Laurind said with a light smirk, and Oropher let out a bark of laughter.

"Not to mention you have a foothold on the royalty of the Greenwood." he said.

"Glorfindel has as much of one as I do." Laurind said with a shrug. "He is friends with Thranduil, and to some extent, with you."

"True, true." Oropher said. "Very well then, now that you've decided, we shall leave tomorrow." The King stood up and called for his aide as soon as he announced that, and Laurind, after passing the comment to Glorfindel, quickly made her excuses and went to pack.

Of course, winning the argument with Glorfindel - and, by extension, Gil-galad - caused a whole new set of troubles, as the court soon found out, via Laurind's maids, about the new envoy arrangement. The maids were shocked that Laurind was going alone, some demanded to be brought along, but Laurind crisply - though not unkindly - informed them that, as Noldor, they were not welcome. The Lords and Ladies seemed to find this a disturbing turn of events, and by the time Laurind retired for bed, her maids were reporting all sorts of wild rumors that were shooting around the palace nobility - some of which were decidedly uncomplimentary to Sylvan Elves, and some of which were amusing enough to be repeated to Thranduil when he showed up in Laurind's room later.

With the new topic of discussion, Laurind's maids were, once again, staying up later than her, but it hadn't stopped Thranduil from sneaking in the night before, and didn't stop him that night. For quite awhile, they simply stayed in Laurind's room, by the window, talking in hushed voices, keeping half an ear open for the maids, reveling in the fact that Laurind had succeeding in getting permission to go to the Greenwood. Laurind thought, in fact, that a short talk might be all they had, as there was no longer an impending separation hanging over their head. Thranduil, however, apparently had other ideas, and Laurind soon found herself sneaking through the palace gardens, being towed along by Thranduil, who apparently had a destination in mind.

"Where are we going, anyways?" Laurind asked quietly a few minutes after they left her rooms.

"You'll see." was Thranduil's response. Which meant that it was a surprise – and Laurind had trouble with just letting surprises happen. She was silent for about one minute before she started asking questions and trying to guess where they were headed, much to the amusement – and annoyance – of Thranduil. In the end, however, her guesses were for naught, and so she was suitably surprised when they turned the corner and arrived at the little garden that she had tended, cultivating the _Ilaurëalótë_, before Glorfindel had been reborn and returned from Valinor.

"Now if you'd kept quieter and paid attention to where we were going, you might have actually been able to guess where we were heading." Thranduil said, half grumpily and half teasingly. Laurind chuckled.

"I have insatiable curiosity. Ask Glorfindel. He'll tell you all sorts of stories about me ending up where I wasn't supposed to when I was an elfling." she said with an impish grin.

"I have no doubt he would." Thranduil said, smiling and shaking his head. "And he'd probably include tales of how you dragged him along."

"Or used him to get where I was going." Laurind said, grinning fondly as she recalled all the times she'd coerced her twin into sneaking her into places. The most memorable, by far, was the time she got him to sneak her into the barracks, dressed as a male, so she could spar all their House Guard. And that had been in Gondolin, when both of them were past their first millennia. She was still slightly amazed that such a plan had worked, actually…

"So, why are we here, or did you have any reason besides it being a pretty place to sit and talk where there's little chance of anyone overhearing and/or discovering us?" Laurind asked with a start, pulling herself out of her memories. She and Glorfindel had both developed a tendency to drift away on particularly fond memories ever since he'd regained all of his. Everyone at court, fortunately, seemed to be understanding.

"There was a specific reason, actually." Thranduil said, resting his hands on Laurind's hips as he drew her closer, looking at her intently.

"And what is this specific reason?" Laurind asked curiously, tilting her head to one side.

"Well, I was wondering if you might be willing, now that you've gone and won the argument about going to the Greenwood with me, to actually concede and let your brother win. At least for a year." Thranduil said, sounding remarkably calm, though Laurind could see him tense up as he spoke, his hands almost convulsively tightening and then loosening again on her hips. It was a curious sensation, which Laurind would have commented on if she hadn't been puzzling over what Thranduil meant, and why it had made him uncertain and nervous all of the sudden.

Thranduil did, of course, have every reason to be nervous when asking Laurind to concede an argument, especially such a major one as this that was with her brother. Laurind hated conceding over anything major, and even if she _was_ in love with the elf, that wouldn't save him. Except Laurind doubted that simply knowing how much she disliked to concede was the reason Thranduil was nervous. She frowned as she thought over his words, the last five tugging at her as having some special meaning. Then it hit her, and her eyes widened.

"You don't mean –" Laurind stopped, gaping slightly, as Thranduil produced, from somewhere, a golden ring, inlaid with mithril representations of the _Ilaurëalótë_, and held it out to her in his right hand.

"I do, actually." Thranduil said, and this time his calm voice quavered somewhat at the end, showing his nervousness. Laurind glanced up at Thranduil, her face blank, then down at the ring, thought refusing to process in her mind.

_::Laur?::_ Glorfindel's somewhat worried, questioning thought came her way as he felt the total lack of thought occuring in her mind. Then there came the mental equivalent of a sucked in breath as Laurind, having no other thoughts to reply with, simply showed him what she was seeing.

_::It would have been nice if he'd asked my permission first.::_ Glorfindel muttered. Laurind remained silent, even as she felt the light touch in her mind that meant Glorfindel was looking through her memories. _::Ah.::_ Glorfindel seemed to understand. Then he gave a mental shove to Laurind, which caused her to blink, but little else. Glorfindel mentally sighed, and then Laurind started as she received a mental picture of Glorfindel kissing Thranduil. She sent a growl to her brother.

_::Well, it worked.::_ Glorfindel quipped in reply. _::Though he hasn't sought it, Thranduil has my permission, and you both have my blessing if _you _decide to go through with this.::_ Then his touch on Laurind's mind withdrew, and Laurind turned her attention back to Thranduil, who was only now starting to get worried. Laurind smiled with light amusement as she looked up at him.

"Glorfindel is slightly peeved that you didn't ask his permission as my closest male kin AND the head of my House." she said conversationally. Thranduil blinked, then grimaced lightly.

"It didn't occur to me." he said. "I was a little wrapped up thinking about other things. And somewhat busy being locked in my room."

"Well, either way, Glorfindel's decided that he doesn't mind." Laurind said. "Which is somewhat disappointing, since I would have loved to have another argument to replace the one that I'm now conceding to him." Thranduil jerked slightly, looking at Laurind in surprise. "What, don't tell me you expected me to say no?" she teased. "When the whole argument was really about getting to stay with you?"

"Well I wasn't absolutely sure…" Thranduil said, somewhat sheepishly, as he slipped the engagement ring on Laurind's finger when she offered her hand.

"Hence why you actually asked, instead of just assuming." Laurind said dryly, then pulled Thranduil down for a kiss. "One year is a small sacrifice to make for an eternity together." she said quietly when the kiss ended, and Thranduil smiled slightly.

"I thought you might see it that way." he said lightly, then kissed her again.

_::Glory, pack your bags.::_ Laurind told her twin as she kissed her betrothed.

_::I already am.::_ Glorfindel stated. _::It didn't take a genius to guess what your answer was going to be.::_

_::A good thing, I guess, since if it had, you wouldn't have been able to guess rightly.::_ Laurind said.

_::Oh, go back to kissing Thranduil.::_ Glorfindel muttered, and Laurind, giggling, complied.


	12. When Ya Just Cant Keep A Goodbye Serious

**The House of the Golden Flower **

Disclaimer:  
I do not own any of it, nor do I claim to. The only part of it that is in any way mine is the personality of the character Laurind. The rest belongs to JRR Tolkien – or, more specifically, his estate. No copyright infringement is intended. (So please don't sue.)

Author's Note:  
Bet you thought I'd never finish it, hey? Well, to be honest, this story was actually already finished. I realized that when I went back and re-read it not long ago. I had taken the story through the plot I wanted to, and anything beyond that was superficial. I could follow Laurind, Thranduil and Glorfindel through seperation, wedding, the Last Alliance, the birth of Legolas and any other siblings I cared to give the nancy elf, but...that wasn't the story. The story was about Laurind and Glorfindel being reunited, and the House of the Golden Flower living once more, even if it is only to be married into the Greenwood royal line.

This epilogue is really just a wrap-up, to bring things more in line with the way Tolkien put things in his books. It's mostly character-based, since I haven't done anything on _Lord of the Rings_ in so long that I've forgotten pretty much everything I knew. Plus I'm writing it at work and, unfortunately, we've already chucked our copy of the trilogy (along with all the other books).

Epilogue: When You Just Can't Keep A Goodbye Serious  
The year 2510 of the Third Age

Two golden-haired elves stood at the beginning of the dock, watching those moving at its end. No voice disturbed the saddened silence, but the two elves spoke their sorrowful goodbyes to one another.

_::He is hurt, but he seems to understand.::_ Laurind said softly in her twin's mind. _::I worry, though, about how the darkness of Mirkwood will affect him without me there to shield him.::_

_::He is a strong elf – I'm sure he'll manage.::_ Glorfindel replied.

_::Perhaps.::_ Laurind said uncertainly, then turned to look at her brother. _::Watch him for me, Glorfindel. Be there for him when I cannot. I do not fear weakness in him, but over confidence has been the undoing of Silvan elves too many times.::_

_::I do not know how much I can do – you know he has hardly spoken to me since...Oropher...::_ Glorfindel replied after a pause.

_::He is still hurt by his father's death, yes – but you are still his friend, despite that, and you are my brother. Watch him, Glorfindel.::_ Laurind pleaded. _::Watch him as I watch your lord's lady.::_ Glorfindel nodded.

_::I will.::_ he said, then cast his gaze towards the boat at the end of the dock, seeing that only a few elves still remained at the end of the dock, watching those in the boat itself. _::It is time for you to go.::_

_::I know.::_ Laurind said with a sigh. _::Watch Thranduil, Glorfindel. Watch Legolas. Do not let them fall into the mistakes of the past.::_

_::I promise I shall only let them make new mistakes.::_ Glorfindel said with a small smile, pulling his sister to him in a hug.

_::No! No mistakes!::_ Laurind countered with a mental laugh. _::You must follow them around everywhere and prevent them from ever doing anything wrong! You must spoil your nephew rotten, and his father even worse!::_

_::Hmm, I can try, but Lord Elrond may object to me neglecting my duties to that degree.::_ Glorfindel teased back as the two siblings drew away from each other. They grew solemn as they looked at each other, knowing it would be the last time they saw one another for many years. _::Take care of yourself, and our House.::_

_::So long as you do. If you find your way to Mandos' Halls again, I will wait for you to emerge before sending you right back with my own bare hands.::_ Laurind threatened half-heartedly. _::I will miss you greatly.::_

_::More than after Gondolin?::_ Glorfindel asked lightly, and Laurind nodded seriously.

_::Yes, much more, for I will know you are still out here, and that I could see you again if I merely tried.::_ she said.

_::Aye. I will miss you, as well.::_ Glorfindel said with a soft sigh. _::In this, I am not sure if it is a good thing or a bad thing that your son looks so much like you, for every time I see Legolas, I will think of you, in Valinor.::_ Laurind smiled, then stepped away from her brother, glancing down the dock to see the sailors impatiently beginning to ready the boat for sailing.

_::I'd best hurry before they leave with my things, but not me.::_ Laurind said.

_::I'm sure Thranduil would gladly replace your things if you were to stay.::_ Glorfindel said seriously.

_::You're the one who asked me to do this, Glorfindel.::_ Laurind said warningly. _::If you change your mind and ask me to stay, I might just listen.::_

_::No...I have not changed my mind. Go. Celebrían needs you, and truthfully, you need the peace of Valinor.::_ Glorfindel said, then smiled sadly at Laurind's scowl. _::You were strong while I was in the Halls of Mandos, but do not think I haven't noticed that you have never been quite the same, even once I returned. Grief such as you had to bear leaves a mark on ones soul, a mark that only Valinor can soothe.::_ Laurind remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

Abruptly, she stepped over to Glorfindel again and wrapped him in a warm hug, both physically and mentally, before releasing him, picking up her skirts, and dashing down to the end of the dock, where she jumped nimbly into the boat. There were a few brief smiles at her antics, but they faded quickly as Glorfindel followed at a more sedate pace, coming to stand at the end of the dock with Elrond and his three children. Together, the five of them watched as the sailors cast off, and the boat began moving away from the dock.

As it slowly moved out of view, two figures appeared at the bow, one with golden hair, the other with silver. They stayed there, watching, as the boat slid through the water, away from the dock, and eventually out of sight. And just as the five elves on the dock turned to leave, two of them felt light brushes on their minds, full of love, each of a different kind, and longing for when they would meet again.

In Mirkwood, Thranduil could only stare west over his woods, feeling that last caress echoing through him, before he turned and returned to his duties with a sigh. His son followed close behind, watchful of his father's grief.

**END **


End file.
